


doors, wide open

by RoamingSignals



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexuality Spectrum, Hook-Up, Light Angst, M/M, Sexual Discovery, Side Ships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2019-11-23 19:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 96,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18156329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoamingSignals/pseuds/RoamingSignals
Summary: "He's been looking over here all night," Mina says, still clutching Taeyong's arm. "He's interested!" Taeyong clears his throat awkwardly, but when he looks back those eyes are still on him. Taeyong supposes he should be flattered — in reality he doesn't feel much of anything."But is TY interested?" asks Ilhoon. "Taeyong isn't interested in anyone."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm Rome 8000 of emotional set up reasonable, right? Cool cool
> 
> Thanks to everyone who held my hand and read through this because I was convinced it was absolute shit. Bless up.

"Ugh, he's so hot, though."

Taeyong hums in agreement and sips on his drink, neither enthusiastic nor focused. His brain is far away; anywhere is better than here, listening to this conversation again.

"He keeps looking at you," Mina twitters, clutching Taeyong by the arm and hiding a squeal in the palm of her hand. "TY, what do I have to do to be you?"

There's an easy answer: be shy, anxious, and pretend it's because you're mysterious. For some reason, people find Taeyong's silence charismatic instead of awkward, but Taeyong knows the truth.

Oh Sehun is neither shy, awkward, nor mysterious; everyone on campus knows who he is, and he is unapologetically himself. Of all the things he is known for, Taeyong thinks that's what he admires the most.

Still. He's known for getting around.

It's late, the party is in full swing, and Taeyong can feel himself pressing back into the shadows. His hour of energy is fully used up, and now his head feels empty and he's ready to settle into the cracks. There are a lot of people and it's exhausting, just thinking of dealing with them all. But he can't remain in the background if certain people are intent on paying attention to him.

"He's been looking over here all night," Mina says, still clutching Taeyong's arm. "He's interested!" Even as she speaks, Sehun is dancing with another boy and looking their way. Taeyong clears his throat awkwardly, but when he looks back Sehun's eyes are still on him. He’s attractive, undeniably, and his eyes are intense. The boy he’s dancing with is so into it he doesn’t even realize Sehun’s attention has strayed.

Taeyong supposes he should be flattered, but in reality he doesn't feel much of anything.

"But is TY interested?" asks Ilhoon. He's leaning up against the bar, a drink in hand, making eyes at a girl on the dance floor, but they all know he won't make a move. He never does. That's why he's over here sitting with Taeyong and Mina in the first place. "Taeyong isn't interested in anything."

Anything. It needles at something Taeyong's never wanted to touch. "That's not true," he protests with a small laugh.

"Just not boys?" Mina says coyly. Her cheeks are flushed rosy. She's twirling her hair around and around her finger; Taeyong focuses on that more than her words because he's not — interested. "Even gorgeous, popular, very very hot boys."

"Or girls." Ilhoon laughs. It sounds a bit bitter. Taeyong will attribute it to his finished drink and the finished one before that. "Or _anything._ "

Something bitter settles deep in his stomach, and Taeyong takes a shot because it tastes better.

"Seriously — everyone throws themselves at you and you just turn up your nose at everything." Taeyong would feel better if Ilhoon would stop talking, or keep talking but stop drinking, maybe, but he doesn't say anything, so Ilhoon keeps going. "You're so cold, man."

"I don't think that's true," Mina says, but she doesn't notice the way Taeyong's shoulders have stiffened, or the way he's staring at Oh Sehun across the room. She's just tipsy and having a good time. Taeyong wishes he were the same. "Taeyong is the best." She nuzzles his shoulder. "I'll date you. Me and Sehun, both."

Taeyong laughs and takes the drink out of her other hand. "Deal." He downs the rest of it and feels better. Alcohol fills in the emptiness of his head. "Does anyone want to dance?"

Mina always wants to dance, even if she can't. She's an enthusiastic partner if nothing else, and Ilhoon waves then both off with a toast of his glass.

If Taeyong dances closer to Sehun than he needs to, the only one who knows is Mina, and she's in full support, so he doesn't worry about it.

 

* * *

 

When Mark started dating his best friend from high school, it was a big deal. Not because Mark liking men was a big deal, but because he's already dating more than Taeyong has in his whole life.

"Aren't they cute?" Taeyong's mom coos, showing pictures from prom. They're embarrassing. The boyfriend, Donghyuck, looks like something out of a cartoon. Mark himself is embarrassed by the antics, but there's something in his eyes while watching his friend make a of fool of them both that makes Taeyong think it's for the long haul. "We should invite them all over for lunch on Sunday."

"Mark would hate that," Taeyong agrees. His cousin is a dutiful son, but he's not big on the attention involved with bringing over a significant other. "We can show his boyfriend the baby pictures."

It is cute. Taeyong can't wait to talk to Mark about it. He's been hearing stories about Donghyuck for years. This isn't a surprise for anyone in their family, although they all know better than to say as much to Mark.

Taeyong is happy for him, full of warmth looking at the stupid pictures.

His mother takes a deep breath. "You know...it's okay...ah. Never mind."

He makes an odd sound of confusion, looking up from the photos at his mother from across the table. She's biting her lip. That's never great news; it always means she's thinking too much. "What?"

"If you were interested in men, that would be okay," she says slowly, pressing her hands flat down against the table.

"Oh." Taeyong doesn't exactly freeze. Or, if he does, not because he's been caught in something, but because he's confused. "Okay."

He isn't gay. Or maybe he is, but he's not any more gay than straight. He's not really anything. He never thinks about it. Women are beautiful and men are beautiful — nothing much more than that has crossed his mind.

His mother's mouth is pressed into a tight line. She's been thinking about this. Overthinking.

Is Taeyong gay? Has he just never noticed? Or is that an assumption made because he’s not interested in women either?

He swallows a bitter pill.

"Thank you," He says, because he thinks that's what his mother needs.

"I love you, baby," she says. "No matter what."

"I love you, too." He feels awkward and vulnerable but at least he's honest.

 

* * *

 

Oh Sehun happens, and it's fine. The big deal is that Taeyong feels unchanged afterwards.

 

* * *

 

**Unknown**

Hey! This is Sehun! I got your number from your friend. I hope that's okay?

Oh  
Hi Sehun. It's fine I don't mind :)

I just had a really good time the other night

I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?

Ah I'm sorry I'm really busy this week :(  
We can still talk! I really don't mind!  
But we probably can't hang out until my projects are done I'm really sorry!!!

That's okay! I love talking ;)

Great :)

 

* * *

 

Taeyong lives his life in high tension. There are very few moments in life where he actually feels relaxed. It's murder on his back, and while it might let him maintain focus for hours on end (great from studying), it leads to mental breakdowns if he overworks himself (which he does).

There was a mild case of trial and error when he first went to college; he had to find _something_ , _anything_ to help him unwind. At first, it was dancing, but Taeyong found himself pouring too much into it and it ended up becoming another responsibility, even if he enjoyed it. Ten was pissed when Taeyong said he was pulling out of some of the rehearsals, but they still dance together, and Taeyong said he'll help with any projects, and he's trying to find a balance.

The trick is finding something that's low commitment.

Nowadays, Taeyong listens to the radio.

"NCT Night Night," Johnny says cutely from Taeyong's computer.

Jaehyun hums. Taeyong can hear him rustling the papers on his desk. "We should do a Morning Morning."

"Wakey Wakey." Johnny laughs. "This is a college, Jaehyun, you really think anyone would listen at like, 6am? _I_ wouldn't even listen."

Taeyong isn't sure what the radio show is supposed to be about. In general they keep it related to campus, either with gossip or talking about events happening, but that gets boring and the entire thing eventually devolves into Johnny and Jaehyun talking about bullshit. They've interviewed music groups from town a few times; Taeyong enjoys that the most. It's good background noise, like company that he doesn't have to worry about contributing to.

Sometimes it's mystifying. Once they had an entire conversation about bread that Taeyong still isn't sure wasn't a fever dream, but he supposes that's normal when the show happens so late.

The only people that listen are the insomniacs and the people who twitter about Jaehyun and Johnny during the day time.

Taeyong has one class with Johnny. He seems like a nice guy. Taeyong doesn't pay that much attention.

All Taeyong knows about Jaehyun is that he's friends with Dongyoung, which means he's not that bad.

He's content with not knowing any more.

Ten won't shut up about them.

"Johnny came into the studio yesterday — he dances, you know? — and I thought he would be shitty because he's so…" Ten pauses, trying to find the words, and ends up throwing his arms around instead. "Big?"

Johnny _is_ big. It's one of the few things Taeyong knows, if he were to keep a list. The other day Johnny stood up to hand something in to their teacher and Taeyong had stared at his legs in alarm before turning back to his notes. "Did he do okay?"

His roommate grins, spinning around in his chair. Taeyong is worried the cup noodle in his hands in going to spill on the floor, but Ten never wastes food and doesn't spill a drop. "Yeah! I was surprised. I mean, he's not as good as I am." Ten pretends to flip his hair over his shoulder, and then the look on his face softens into something less wicked and more kind. "And of course he can never replace you."

It's a sweet gesture. "Of course," Taeyong says.

"But like." Ten shrugs. "He's hot, so I'll allow it. And he brings his hot friends, whom I'll also allow." He bites his lip and chews on the end of the shitty wooden chopsticks.

Ten is a lot different than Taeyong. Maybe that's why Taeyong likes him so much, even when he's being annoying.

Ten invites Taeyong out to go dancing that night — clubbing, he clarifies, when Taeyong points out that all his sweats are dirty — but Taeyong is still recovering from the last time he went out to be social. He declines, but it doesn't stop Ten from narrating exactly what he's going to wear, even on his way out the door.

It's too quiet without Ten. His phone pings and it's too loud. There's no inbetween.

Taeyong turns the radio back on.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong's first kiss happened when he was 17 years old. He wasn't in love. He wasn't even in like. He's not really sure he knows how that feels.

Taeyong's first kiss happened because he wanted to get it over with, and he's okay with that. Once it's done, he has no regrets, until a week later when the girl calls him frigid and kisses his best friend.

It's not a loss, but it feels like one. Taeyong wonders what was missing.

A month later, he accepts that whatever was missing was in himself.

 

* * *

 

It's easy to forget that Sehun attends school with them, because he's in the music school and Taeyong studies accounting. Their buildings are on opposites sides of campus. The only time they have ever run into each are at social events, which Taeyong has taken to avoiding out of pure self-preservation.

Still, there's nothing Taeyong can do if someone seeks him out and that someone is Oh Sehun.

It's a big campus, and Taeyong makes it through the day with only talking to a handful of people: Ten, the girl beside him in Econ who always forgets her pencil, and Mina and Ilhoon. He's having lunch with the two of them now, even though it's been awkward for the past week.

Mina is chattering away, complaining about a professor in her marketing classes, but Taeyong is only half-focused on what she's saying. He smiles and laughs on cue, and he teases her when she talks so quickly she trips over her words, and he appreciates her doing her best to ease the tension at the table.

It's just hard to pay attention to anything other than Ilhoon brooding in the corner.

He's normally talkative to a fault, something that Taeyong finds solace in, but there's something holding his tongue and Taeyong doesn't know what to do with it, so he tries and help Mina fill in the extra space.

"Did you get your project finished for Qian?" he asks Ilhoon gently, passing him the fruit from his plate as a white flag.

Something jars in Ilhoon's expression, and Taeyong can see him shake off whatever cloud is hanging over his head. For the moment at least. He groans. "No. I had to ask for an extension. If anyone asks my computer is with tech support."

"You know that professors can ask for the IT ticket, right?" Mina teases, pushing her noodles around on her plate absently. "If Qian didn't ask she knows you're full of shit."

Ilhoon laughs and scratches the back of his neck. "I mean, valid, but I still got the extension, so…"

"Do you need help finishing?" Taeyong asks. He'd taken Qian's class last semester and remembers how much of a pain in the ass it was. He kept most of his study materials. He's offered them to Ilhoon before, but he can't help it that his friend is stubborn. "I'm sure mine is still on my computer somewhere."

Mina laughs. "Since yours is at tech support."

Some fragile film shatters and things are normal for two heartbeats, approximately, before another shadow falls over the table.

Taeyong is in the middle of laughing when he feels someone at his side, and he turns his face up, still smiling, to see Oh Sehun by their table.

He's an appropriate distance, not too close but close enough that his attention is clearly on Taeyong, and Taeyong does his best to not let the smile slip off his face because that feels too telling. "Sehun," he says, clearing his throat. "Hello."

"Ah, I'm sorry to interrupt," Sehun says, smiling at Mina and Ilhoon in turn, but they're both almost holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I just saw you and thought I would see how you were doing?"

"I'm great," Taeyong says politely, still smiling. "How are you?"

It's all Sehun needs, a mild opportunity, and he takes it with grace. "I'm good, but I haven't seen you around, so I guess I could be better." It should sound skeevy, but he's looking away from Taeyong's face like he's embarrassed, and it feels so genuine that something shifts in Taeyong's chest.

Not the thing that needs to shift. It's just guilt.

"Texting me isn't enough?" Taeyong asks, too stiff to be teasing but he's trying. Sehun has been texting him a lot. Not too much. He's a gentleman.

Sehun sighs, smiling begrudgingly. "Not really," he admits.

Mina's jaw drops in shock.

"I gotta go," Sehun says, like he hasn't made Taeyong's heart stop.He looks over his shoulder, and Taeyong sees some of the other big name popular kids packing up their bags on their way out the door. Sehun waves them off for a moment, but it's clear they're waiting for him. "I really did just come to say hi, but there's a party on Friday; will you come?"

Taeyong blinks. "I—"

"He'll be there," Mina says cheerfully, before staring at Taeyong incredulously.

For what it's worth, Sehun is still looking at Taeyong, waiting for his answer, but Taeyong just smiles tightly and nods. "Sure, I'll come."

"You're all invited, of course." Sehun inclines his head at Ilhoon, who has gone quiet in his corner all over again. "I'll get you the details later, okay?" Sehun grins. "I'll text you."

"Sure," Taeyong says, but Sehun is already walking away towards his friends and the rest of them are left in the wake.

Mina makes a sound of betrayal. "He's been _texting_ you? And you didn't _tell us?_ I thought we were friends!"

Taeyong groans, setting his fork down on the table. "It just didn't seem like a big deal?"

"A big deal? Everything Oh Sehun does is a big deal." Mina fans her face with her hand, like she's trying to get her heart to stop racing. "He hooks up with people all the time but he never keeps up with them."

"That we know of," Ilhoon points out. He stabs a piece of meat on his tray with his fork but doesn't seem inclined to eat it. Taeyong relates — his appetite has completely disappeared.

"You're going to that party," Mina announces. "You're going to go to that party looking hot as hell and you're going to seduce him or Taeyong, I swear to God—"

"I'm not doing that," Taeyong protests with a laugh. "He's just being nice, he's not asking for my hand in marriage."

Mina sniffs. "Well, he should be." Her mouth is pressed into a prim line, and she tucks her hair behind her ears like she's getting down to business. "You're the best thing that ever happened to him, probably. You deserve someone nice." Her eyes flash to Ilhoon. "Right?"

Ilhoon glares at her, his rain cloud back in full force, but he sighs. "Right." He looks at Taeyong tiredly. "You deserve someone really great."

"Thank you." Taeyong is oddly touched.

He doesn't want Oh Sehun, but it's nice to know that Taeyong's friends think he deserves him.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong wakes up in the morning miserable. Not emotionally miserable, which would be normal and bearable for most college students, but physically miserable. There's gunk in his eyes, and his throat feels swollen shut. His body aches and his head spins when he sits up, so he flops back down on the bed with a moan.

Ten pops his head out from the upper bunk. "You getting naughty down there?"

It's too early to deal with Ten as a human. "No, I'm dying." Taeyong rubs his eyes. His face feels puffy and gross. There's mucus in his throat. Unacceptable. He has lecture in 30 minutes.

"That's less fun." Seeing Ten's face upside down is hurting Taeyong's head, but there's nothing he can do about it. "I have medicine in my desk somewhere."

Ten's desk is a biohazard.

"I have some, but thank you." Taeyong fights the urge to roll over in bed and throws off the covers.

When he stands up Ten waves his hand for him to come closer. Ten's hand is cool as it presses against his forehead. "You just got out of bed so it's hard to tell but you might have a fever." He frowns.

Taeyong sighs. This is what happens when he gets stressed. And he's always stressed. Still, first sickness of the semester and he's able to get out of bed in record time. It could be worse. "I'll take something for that, too." His head feels heavy. Lecture is going to kill him.

Somehow, Taeyong makes it through the next fifteen minutes, taking whatever medicine Ten digs out of his desk or finds in Taeyong's bag. He brushes his teeth and throws on a hoodie for good measure and doesn't attempt to work on his hair. Not that anyone who see him is going to care about his hair.

It's a bitter walk to class. It's warm outside but he's shivering in his sweatshirt. He feels like a piece of shit even as he pushes through the door to lecture, and falling into his seat is a relief whereas usually it's like preparing himself for torture.

His head hits the desk and he waits for the professor to walk in, five minutes late, as per usual.

There's a change in scenery, even if the professor is right on cue.

Taeyong is too out of it to notice that someone is occupying the usually empty seat to his left, he barely even registers the noise of someone putting their backpack down. So the gentle, "Hey, man, you okay?" surprises him out of a stupor.

With a groan, Taeyong lifts his head off the desk and sees Johnny Seo leaning in, worried, from the seat beside him.

Taeyong just puts his head on the desk again.

"You need water or something?" Johnny asks. He sounds just like he does on the radio, but he's slurring his words together, talking quickly, and it's a little hard for Taeyong to follow when his brain feels like mush.

"Mmm," Taeyong says, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

"Uh, sure." Johnny looks at Taeyong, unimpressed. "Do you mind?" He leans closer.

Taeyong doesn't say yes but he doesn't say no, and in both cases it's because he's not entirely sure what's going on.

Johnny reaches out and presses the back of his hand to Taeyong's forehead, just like Ten had this morning, not an hour ago, but it feels a bit different. Taeyong feels jittery when Johnny checks for his temperature. He looks so intent when he does it.

"You're really hot," Johnny says plainly.

"Uh..." Taeyong doesn't know how to process that.

"Like, with fever." Johnny laughs. It's different than on the radio. "Can you even make it through class, man?"

"Mmm." Taeyong buries his head in his arms. "No."

Johnny settles back in his chair. This is a weird first conversation. "You should go to the nurse. It's flu season."

"It's the plague," Taeyong says in response, muffled by the sleeves of his hoodie. "Nurse doesn't have the study guide for exam."

"Go home, dude." Johnny taps lightly on Taeyong's desk like an exclamation point. "I'll take really good notes for you."

Just like that, he's picking up his bag and making his way up towards his usual seat, and Taeyong doesn't have the brain capacity to argue. He just watches Johnny walk away, his head aching, and Johnny sits down at the other seat, and Taeyong thinks _he came over here just because I look like shit_.

It's another sweet gesture.

Taeyong goes to the nurse.

It's not until he's on his way back to the dorm with a prescription for antibiotics that he wonders if Johnny even knows his name.

 

* * *

 

**Oh Sehun**

I'm looking forward to seeing you on Friday. Are you still gonna come?

Ah yes! Thanks again for inviting us ^^

Honestly it's my pleasure  
I don't get to see you as often as I'd like~

Oh uhm yes :)  
Is it still okay if I bring friends?

Of course! I invited them too ;)  
I know you get nervous. I want you to be comfortable

That's really kind of you. Thank you.

No problem  
I'm sure you can find a way to thank me later lmao

Uh we'll see haha

 

* * *

 

Friday morning Taeyong feels better and wishes he didn't. It would have been a wonderful excuse not to go out after classes.

"You're so lame," Ten says, delightedly picking out Taeyong's outfit. Taeyong doesn't have clothes for parties, really, but Ten gets an odd amount of satisfaction in dressing his roommate in his own clothes, so Taeyong is usually on the right side of fashionable. "I'm going to this party and I'm going to get 1) drunk and 2) like, at least four numbers."

"You're an icon," Taeyong tells him fondly, even if that sounds like a terrible time.

Taeyong agrees to drive, so he waits patiently while Ten runs around the dorm, waits even more patiently while Ten pregames, and follows dutifully when Ten leads them both downstairs to where he parked his clunker. They share the car even if it's Ten's, but it's so untrustworthy that Taeyong is more likely to walk to the store and save himself the stress.

He gets into the car and checks their groupchat — _yong hurry up ilhoon is already drinkng and i want to DANCE_ — but he just laughs and sends a quick _omw_ before pulling out of the crowded lot. He prays the car holds together as he turns onto the main road and lets Ten take control of the aux cord.

Ten's car gets them to Sehun's house well enough, even if there's absolutely nowhere to park. It takes them an extra fifteen minutes just to find a spot, and Ten spends the next fifteen minutes bemoaning that they missed the fashionably late window and are now just regular late.

"Let's hurry," Ten chirps, tugging Taeyong along by the arm. "I want to dance."

"You should find Mina!" Taeyong laughs over the sounds of the party as they draw closer to the house. It's not a nice house, but it's also a house rented by four college boys, so Taeyong wasn't expecting much. "She always wants to dance!"

Ten laughs too, taking the steps up the porch two at a time and waiting for Taeyong valiantly at the top. "I need to be more drunk if I'm going to dance with Mina."

"She's a fun dancer," Taeyong protests weakly. Ten slings his arm over Taeyong's shoulder and rings the doorbell and they're already wondering how far gone Mina is for the night.

Ten's tipsy and Taeyong is drunk on the idea of a night out, somewhere in that sweet place before the rush drops and leaves him a husk, and he doesn't even feel anxious when the door opens.

It's not Sehun who opens it, even if this is his party. It's Johnny.

Once of the things that Taeyong has realized about Johnny is that he always puts at least a small amount of thought into his appearance. Idly, he wonders if it's because Johnny likes looking good or if he doesn't think he looks good without it. Still, the effort tonight is appreciated. His hair is styled out of his face and the black shirt he's wearing is tucked into his black jeans, fashionably disheveled. Taeyong feels like a speck of dust.

But Johnny is smiling brightly at the both of them. "Hey, welcome, guys." He pushes the door the rest of the way open. "I didn't know you guys were coming?"

"Sehun invited us!" Ten chirps, which is a bit of an overstatement. Sehun invited Taeyong and then Ten attached himself like a leech, but there are enough people here that Taeyong doubts the invitations were very exclusive.

"I'll invite you next time," Johnny says, grinning. "To assert my dominance."

"I like that in a man," Ten teases, fluttering his eyelashes at Johnny as he walks through the door, and Taeyong laughs despite the embarrassment creeping up his throat.

Taeyong doesn't saying anything really, just walks in after Ten, but Johnny clears his throat and Taeyong is so close that he can hear it over the sounds of the music. "Are you feeling better?" Johnny asks, voice purposefully polite, like he's talking with an animal that might spook.

Maybe that's true, because Taeyong feels a bit like a deer in the headlights. "Uh, yes." He smiles, only mildly awkward. He wonders if it comes off as cold, even though he's trying. "Thank you so much for making me go. I wouldn't have..."

"I know you wouldn't have," Johnny says knowingly, but he's smiling enough that it's clear he's teasing. It's no wonder him and Ten get along. "Although I haven't really fulfilled my side of the deal." He closes the door, closing off access to the outside world, and Taeyong realizes they really are standing very close to each other, trying to hear in the ruckus of the foyer. "Don't leave before I get your email!"

If Taeyong were Ten, maybe he's say something clever back, but he's not Ten, so he just smiles and nods and lets Ten drag him further into the party.

"I didn't know you were friends with him?" Ten asks, steering them towards the kitchen.

"I'm not," Taeyong answers honestly. "He's just friendly."

" _Friendly_ ," Ten sings. "Ugh, I'd climb him like a tree."

"Please stop." But Taeyong is laughing, and it's a good start to the night.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong loves dancing. He's not drunk enough to really let go, seeing as he's not drunk at all, but there's something about everyone being drunk around you that makes you give less of a fuck. It's a nice feeling.

Ten did in fact find Mina, is now dancing circles around her even having consumed twice as much alcohol as she has. Ten holds his stress not in his shoulders or his back but deep inside, and he only releases it when he's dancing. He's not trying hard; he's just dancing. Mina is pulling at his hands and spinning him in circles and they're both laughing, and something in Taeyong's chest warms as he watches.

Taeyong hasn't been able to find Ilhoon yet tonight, but he doesn't need a dance partner — there are plenty of almost-friends on the dance floor willing to give him the time of day. The wandering hands only bother him a little, because they're fleeting, and no one stays around long enough to feel like a heavy weight. Tonight Taeyong is comfortable belonging to no one and everyone.

"I've been looking for you."

There are only two options as to who it could be, and Taeyong isn't sure which one he's hoping for. When he turns around it isn't Ilhoon, it's Sehun, and the look on his face is kind but not friendly. It's more than friendly. Taeyong feels a mixture of guilt and anxiety curling in his stomach, but he plasters a smile on his face because he likes Sehun. He does. Sehun is a great guy. "I'm right here."

Sehun puts his hands on Taeyong's hips and they aren't heavy but they aren't fleeting either. "Would you like to dance?"

"Sure," Taeyong responds, because he's already dancing and he doesn't want to stop. Adding Sehun into the equation isn't a big deal, even if his stomach tells him it is.

Sehun is a good dancer. He's taller than Taeyong, and more present than Taeyong, and he touches Taeyong like he wants to, and it's not exactly unfamiliar. They've done more than dancing at a party. There are still bruises on Taeyong's hips from the last time, but this time Sehun's hands are gentle. He pulls Taeyong closer.

It's weird.

Taeyong feels weird.

He swallows it down.

Sehun's breath is hot on his neck, somewhere between welcome and unwelcome, and Taeyong swallows that down, too.

"My room is upstairs?" Sehun asks, his lips brushing against Taeyong's skin, and Taeyong shivers but he's not sure it's for the right reasons.

"I don't know," Taeyong whispers, and Sehun is immediately stepping away, concerned.

Sehun's hand is still on his hip, and it's still neither heavy nor fleeting, but now it's delicate, like Taeyong is on the edge of breaking. "I didn't—"

"Let's just dance," Taeyong says, because the look on Sehun's face makes his heart ache. He throws his arms around Sehun's neck because dancing is easier than talking, and Sehun is a good dancer, and a good guy, and Taeyong should want to be here.

 

* * *

 

There are worse things than dancing with a hot guy who likes you and respects you and waits for you, but after a while Taeyong just needs a break. The people around them are starting to whisper and Taeyong feels hot and sweaty and loose and Sehun is really close and so is everyone else and—

It's time for a break.

He disentangles himself for Sehun with minimal effort, flashing him a smile and pointing towards the kitchen.

"I can run and get you something," Sehun offers, "if you want to keep dancing."

"That's alright." His head hurts a little. "I think a break would be nice."

Sehun smiles and lets him go.

Taeyong waves at Mina and Ten as he passes — ignoring Ten's ridiculous thumbs up — and makes his way into the kitchen.

There's no one he knows there, and only a few people sober enough to actually make friends with, but Taeyong is feeling faded around the edges and making friends sounds like too much work. He grabs himself a cup of water and makes his way through the back door to the porch.

It's cool enough outside that his headache sighs with relief, and it's quiet enough that all you can hear from inside is the bass and a low din of chatter. One girl is sitting on the steps smoking, and she looks at Taeyong lazily when he comes outside but otherwise seems unbothered. The only other person is lounging on one of the chairs, and it's someone Taeyong is pleased to see.

"Hey, stranger." Taeyong plops down on the old rocking chair and almost falls through the bottom. Ilhoon looks over at him with a snort. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Can't have been looking too hard," Ilhoon says gently, swirling the liquid around in his cup idly. He takes a drink. "Been here most of the night."

Taeyong frowns. "You should have texted us! We were looking for you as soon as we got here, you punk."

Ilhoon just shrugs and laughs, just a little, and Taeyong thinks things are okay for a moment. Or, rather, he can convince himself of that, before he sees the bitterness in the line of Ilhoon's mouth and the way he won't look Taeyong in the eye.

The sinking feeling in Taeyong's stomach is just another confirmation; Ilhoon is upset over something and it's Taeyong's fault.

"I should have found you first," Taeyong says quietly. He folds his legs up underneath himself.

"No, you shouldn't have," Ilhoon allows. "You were too busy having fun to be out here brooding with me."

"I like you even when you brood," Taeyong says with a laugh, but it's not the right thing to say. Because Ilhoon does look at him then, and the bitterness is in his eyes now instead of his mouth. Or it's in both.

"Saw you dancing with Sehun," Ilhoon says.

Taeyong feels his neck grow hot. Ilhoon says it like it's an accusation and there's a horrible sense of foreboding. "I thought you were here all night?" Taeyong says, because if Ilhoon saw him with Sehun he could have come over, but instead he's out here.

It's also not the right thing to say.

"What's it matter?" Ilhoon demands, the most forceful and present he's been throughout the entire conversation, and Taeyong wonders if they're getting to the root of things, if he's going to like it when they do. "You still would have spent your night up against Sehun."

"That's not fair," Taeyong says tiredly. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

Ilhoon stares at him, brow furrowed. For a moment, something hangs.

"I thought I had you figured out, you know?" Ilhoon tells him, the conversation still hanging by a thread. "You're so predictable. Do you even realize how often people throw themselves at you?"

To some extent, Taeyong knows he doesn't, but he's not oblivious to it either. There's a hunger, sometimes, in people's eyes when they first meet him, and it almost always makes something roll in his stomach so he carries on like it's not there, ignores it. But he's not blind.

"I've seen how many people approach you and you don't even give them the time of day." Taeyong hates this conversation so much. Ilhoon doesn't seem inclined to put it on pause, so Taeyong has no choice but to listen. "You're almost cruel about it, because you act like you don't care at all."

Taeyong's heart stutters. "That's not...I never try to be cruel."

"You are." Between the two of them, Ilhoon is more cruel, to say that so coldly. "What makes Sehun so different?"

On cue, Taeyong feels his phone ping in his pocket, but he's not particularly interested in answering a message from anyone. "Nothing," he says instead. "Nothing about him is different."

"Clearly something is different." Ilhoon leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, taking up the space between them and Taeyong lets him, because he'd rather be small. "You didn't fuck anyone else. But Sehun comes around and you're choking for it." He shakes his head. "I just don't get you."

It's shocking, the way Ilhoon's words fall over them both. Taeyong stares for a moment, a long, weak moment, processing. "That's not what happened." His voice is firm. It isn't what happened. Ilhoon knows that's not what happened. Taeyong isn't like that. Ilhoon has been his friend for years.

"Isn't that what you're doing tonight?" Ilhoon scoffs. "Texting him like one of his bitches and waiting for him to ask you up to his room for a repeat of last week? Just like every other desperate—"

"— _Desperate?_ " Taeyong is clutching the sides of the rocking chair like a vice. The wood groans under his hands. "Is that what you think of me? Really?"

"If you want to be a slut, go ahead." Ilhoon shrugs, but despite the nonchalance it's vicious. "Don't let me stop you."

Horrible. It's horrible, the way Taeyong's throat is stuck closed. He can't even defend himself. He's not sure what to defend. He can barely process the conversation.

Ilhoon stands up, casual, cracks his back and picks up his solo cup. "I liked you better when you were frigid."

A final shot.

He holds up his mostly-empty cup. "You want anything?"

"Fuck you," Taeyong says, voice thick.

Ilhoon just shrugs, tips the cup back, and heads inside.

Taeyong is frozen in his seat. He rifles through a long list of emotions and decides he'd rather not think about any of it but can't stop himself. The fact that Ilhoon really thinks that way of him despite knowing him for years makes his hands shake with anger. The fact that he hadn't lashed out in his own defense makes him even angrier; is that what he thinks about himself?

No. That last word had hurt worse than anything else, because it's true. Frigid. Taeyong is frigid.

A specific word with a specific root that causes a specific kind of hurt. Taeyong wonders what he's done to Ilhoon to incur that kind of sharpness.

Taeyong looks over at the girl smoking and finds her very pointedly not looking at him, even if she's clearly awkward at having overheard. "I'm sorry," he says, sniffling.

She waves him away. "He's an asshole."

"Maybe I am, too," Taeyong says, and she purses her red lips at him but doesn't say anything else.

It's too stifling to stay outside. Taeyong thinks Ilhoon's had enough time to disappear and heads back into the kitchen.

It has cleared out since Taeyong left, the partiers leaving to dance or to fuck or to do something else more interesting than hanging out in the kitchen, but there are still a few people there. Taeyong can tell his eyes are red, preemptively swollen like the universe knows he's on the verge of a breakdown. He keeps his head down, hoping that will hide things until he can find Ten.

He seems to have horrible luck, lately.

Someone reaches out and taps him on the shoulder, and Taeyong might have bulldozed past if they hadn't called, "Hey! I've been looking for you!"

It's Johnny. Of course it's Johnny. He has a bad habit of being there when Taeyong would rather no one was there at all. "Are you leaving?" he's asking as Taeyong dutifully turns to face him. "I wanted to get your email so I could send you those notes."

Something in his expression changes when Taeyong looks him in the eye.

"It's leety06@nct.edu," Taeyong rattles off miserably, holding himself around the middle. Johnny doesn't say anything for a moment, just looks at Taeyong too closely. Taeyong looks anywhere but him. "Have you seen Ten?"

Johnny runs a hand through his hair. It looks good. Taeyong doesn't know why he's messing with it, or why he's biting his lip while he's thinking. The hair thing looks good; the lip thing looks stupid. "He was dancing with your friend for a while, but I think he might have slunk into a dark corner, if you know what I mean."

Taeyong laughs, but it sounds more like a hiccup. "Of course he did." He clears his throat. "I'll uh..." He doesn't want to go find Ten if he's making out with some stranger, he doesn't want to hang around. Maybe he'll just go wait in the car. He turns to rush out the door. "Bye."

"Wait." There's a hand on his elbow, holding him there, and when Taeyong turns around Johnny is already lifting his hands up in surrender. "Sorry." Taeyong assumes he means for grabbing him. The apology is unnecessary — it hadn't been a forceful hold — but Taeyong guesses he appreciates it. "Do you need anything?"

"I need..." _to go_. "I don't know." Taeyong sighs and wipes aggressively at his eyes. He feels the tears welling up. He must look like a baby. "God, sorry. This is a party. Oh my God."

"I have—" Johnny turns around towards the pantry. "Goldfish...hot Cheetos...jelly beans—"

"Water would be nice," Taeyong says after a moment, because it's clear that Johnny won't let him leave without taking care of him, or trying to.

"I'm the King of Water around here," Johnny says seriously, going over to the fridge and shooing away a couple making out there before rifling through to grab a bottle. "I'll get you the best water in this establishment."

Taeyong laughs, only kind of watery. "Brilliant." He sniffs again. He won't cry. It's not worth it, and now isn't the time or place or...well. Taeyong supposes he can't decide when Ilhoon wants to fight with him, if that's even what that would have been considered.

Delicately, Johnny hands him the water. "Do you want to go up to my room?"

Taeyong blanches. It's the second time someone has asked him that tonight, the hundredth time someone has asked him that in his life, and he's never wanted to less.

"Just to...just to calm down," Johnny clarifies, when it's clear Taeyong is in the middle of freaking out. "It's quiet. I lock my room so no one fucks around in there."

"I don't want that," Taeyong says firmly, clutching the water bottle to his chest. "I just want to go home."

Johnny purses his mouth in thought. "I just want you to be okay." His eyebrows are knit in concern, and honestly? That's the last thing Taeyong wants. He doesn't want people to worry about him; he just wants to disappear. "I can't just send you to the nurse this time. Unless that's like, what you need, in which case I will take you there immediately. We'll be there yesterday."

It's sweet, the way Johnny seems so sincere. Taeyong's heart flutters. That's another thing he doesn't want to worry about. "I don't need a doctor." He looks at his feet. "I just want to find Ten and go home."

"I can help you with that," Johnny says solemnly. He's hovering over Taeyong, and he seems confident even if he's not sure what's going on or what to do. Taeyong is jealous of the set of his shoulders, like he has a purpose and a presence. "Do you want to wait here? I'll go find Ten."

"You really..." Johnny is already on his way out the door, and Taeyong's protests pitter off pathetically. He leans back against the counter, letting his head fall back, blinking up at the kitchen light. He'll wait. Might as well.

When Ten stumbles in he's clearly drunk and debauched, but his face sobers when he sees Taeyong waiting in the kitchen, and he smooths down his hair and rushes forward with his arms open. "My baby," Ten says into Taeyong's shirt. "My sweet summer child."

Taeyong flushes with embarrassment and pats Ten's head.

Johnny stands not too far away, stifling a laugh, and Taeyong sends a strained face in his direction. Johnny just gives him a thumbs up.

"Let's take the baby home!" Ten says, clapping his hands like a valet might appear out of nowhere. "Where are the keys?"

" _I'm_ driving," Taeyong reminds him, clutching the car keys tightly in his pocket.

"But Johnny said you're _sad_."

Johnny grins. "You’re a little drunk there, buddy."

"But my baby is _sad_." Ten glares at Johnny. "He can't _drive_."

"Where is Mina?" Taeyong asks, because Ten will not be driving, and if they tell him that too firmly he's liable to throw a tantrum. "Last I saw you were dancing."

"She went to find Ilhoon." Ten wipes lip gloss off of the side of his mouth where it's smeared. Whoever he was meeting in that dark corner clearly left an impression. "Did you find him?"

The question makes Taeyong freeze, and he's not naïve enough to think neither Ten nor Johnny notice. He can practically see Johnny filing the information away for later, which means that Taeyong needs to leave immediately and never see Johnny again. "No," he tells Ten. "I'm sure he'll be fine with Mina. We should head home."

"Yes!" Ten picks up a cup and pours himself some punch before raising it in toast towards Johnny. "For the road."

"Of course, man." Johnny has his hands on his hips like a proud suburban dad. "Enjoy."

It's Ten tugging Taeyong towards the door, even though it's Taeyong who wants to leave, but Taeyong is happy to follow peacefully. "Wait!" Ten says over his shoulder, still pulling, clearly not waiting. "Weren't you gonna fuck Sehun?"

Johnny laughs and coughs at the same time and Taeyong pushes Ten fervently towards the front door, cherry red.

"Taeyong?"

Taeyong shoots Johnny a look, daring him to say something.

Johnny is laughing at him. It's not mean. Taeyong isn't sure what it is. "I hope tomorrow is a better day."

"Um...yeah." Ten is wrenching his shoulder out of his socket, but Taeyong takes the moment to be genuine. "You too."

 

* * *

 

**Oh Sehun**

Hey! Johnny told me you left?

Sorry!!! I was driving!!!  
Yeah I left kind of suddenly! I wasn't feeling well

Without saying goodbye? lol  
Not that you're obligated or anything but I was looking for you :(

No I should have said something I'm sorry  
You invited me there and everything, it was rude of me

It's okay as long as you're okay, you know? You're more important ^^

Ah thank you  
I'll be okay! Thank you!

I'll see you on campus?

Sure :)

 

* * *

 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ten asks later, makeup scrubbed away and skinny jeans traded for boxers and sleep shirts. He's curled up against Taeyong's chest, smells like alcohol and sweat where his hair is tickling Taeyong's nose, arms wrapped around Taeyong's waist.

"No," Taeyong whispers. Ten holds him a little tighter.

The bed is too small for two grown men, but they make it work like they always do, on those rare occasions where one of them feels small enough for the crowding to be worth it. Ten's hand works small circles into the back of Taeyong's shirt, rhythmic, because even when he's drunk he knows how to put Taeyong at ease.

"Do you think I'm cruel?" Taeyong asks the ceiling.

Ten leans his head to look at Taeyong's face, squinting in the darkness for a heart beat, two heart beats. "I don't like cruel people," he says eventually, "and I love you."

It's not an easy sleep that night, but it's warm.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Ellie for: holding my hand  
> (Sorry this chapter is so long)

_just wanted to make sure you're okay!!!!_ from Mina. _Wish I was hanging out with you instead of cleaning up shit :(_ from Sehun. _Sorry._ from Ilhoon.

Taeyong ignores them all.

Ten is curled up against the wall, having stolen all of the blankets in the night, and Taeyong rubs his eyes, stuck closed with sleep. Somehow he was more popular last night than he has been in his entire college career, and he scrolls through his notifications until he finds something he can handle replying to: _DUDE Hyuck and I are coming to campus this weekend for a concert!! You up for lunch? :D_

It's from his cousin, sent some time before things really blew up, and Taeyong hums as he checks the time. It's early enough that he won't feel bad making last minute lunch plans. Mark is family, anyway, and won't mind the inconvenience if it means seeing his cousin. _I'm up for lunch~ introducing the boyfriend to the family? I'm honored_

With a groan, Taeyong gingerly pries himself off the mattress, bare feet on the dirty carpet. He needs to find time to clean this weekend. Ten is pretty good about keeping his mess in his personal spaces, but Taeyong himself has gotten lazy in the past week. He needs to do laundry. By the time he digs the detergent out of his closet his phone is chirping.

 _Let's go to the bbq place you're always talking about? Hyuck is always hungry_ Mark has replied, followed by a hasty _Is noon okay? Hyuck won't wake up before that lmao_

It's sweet. Taeyong has met Donghyuck once or twice before he and Mark started dating, but Taeyong has the sneaking suspicion that the boy had been on his best behavior. It'll be nice to meet him without the rest of the family around; maybe he'll be more comfortable.

Regardless of how polite (or impolite) he is, Mark can't stop talking about him. That's enough to put him in Taeyong's good graces.

Taeyong is glad he's not dealing with a hangover today. His body is revolting against him even without the extra indulgence, and he feels achy and hollow after a night of high tension. His brain is already full of rocks. A hangover on top of everything else might have put him in his grave.

Still, when he walks to the barbecue restaurant, Taeyong can feel himself waking up, livening just enough to be excited to see his cousin, even if dealing with people when he's like this can be exhausting. But the weather is nice today and his stomach is growling. Food and good company is the best thing he could have right now.

Mark and Donghyuck are already sitting outside of the restaurant when Taeyong gets there. It's only a few minutes after noon, and Taeyong had been expecting to wait another twenty minutes at least before either of them showed up.

"I wasn't sure how long the walk was going to take!" Mark chirps, standing up from the bench they're sitting on. "I wanted to be on time!"

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. "You're so boring," he whines, tugging at the hem of Mark's shirt. "It's 2019. No one's on time anymore."

Mark clearly has a lot of practice in ignoring him, because he greets Taeyong happily without replying.

They grab a table inside and Mark and Donghyuck settle in next to each other. It makes Taeyong feel kind of old, even if there's only a few years between them — something about Donghyuck brings out the childishness in Mark. It's a good thing, Taeyong thinks, because Mark spends too much time trying to take responsibility for everything.

Donghyuck is also a lot more touchy than he had been the last few times they'd met. He's clinging to Mark's arm and trying to kiss Mark's cheek repeatedly, despite (or because of) the fact that Mark keeps pulling away. "Isn't he cute?" Donghyuck asks sometime after they've decided on an order, petting Mark's ear.

"I'm older than you," Mark whines.

"I don't care," Donghyuck coos.

It's nice.

Taeyong is a shy person, quiet, but he makes an effort to talk to Donghyuck, and the younger boy is so loud and bright that it's not much of an issue. Honestly, Donghyuck seems quite capable of keeping himself entertained, talking without a care of who is listening to him and teasing Mark when talking gets boring. Mark takes it good-naturedly for the most part, putting on a mature front before his older cousin, but Donghyuck isn't satisfied until he gets a rise out of his boyfriend, and Mark's been known to never deny Donghyuck anything.

"Ugh, I want to date you instead," Donghyuck says when the meat arrives and Taeyong starts putting it on the grill. Taeyong just laughs. "Mark can't even fry an egg. He's useless."

"Don't be mean," Mark whines. "I try to help you cook all the time."

Donghyuck pats Mark's cheek. "If I ever want to set the kitchen on fire, that's your moment."

"My mom's banned him from helping," Taeyong adds helpfully, focusing on the meat on the grill. "He almost cut off his finger chopping carrots."

"Oh my God." Mark groans, an immediate reaction to Donghyuck howling in delight. "You can't tell him these things."

Donghyuck puts a gentle hand on Taeyong's arm. "Let's get married," he says, with a serious expression, and Mark makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "I trust you."

Taeyong thinks that Donghyuck is good for Mark. He's happy.

Mark is graduating this year, is currently applying to many universities, and he's excited as he tells Taeyong about it even though it's clear that Donghyuck is uninterested. For what it's worth, Donghyuck contributes to the conversation. It seems most of the campus visits Donghyuck had also attended, and he has opinions on everything, including how Mark can't make up his mind.

The conversation quickly devolves into bickering, and Taeyong decides they can entertain themselves for a moment. He checks his messages — _want to meet up for lunch?_ from Mina. Taeyong grimaces and apologizes to her for missing her invitation. She takes it in stride, asking to hang out later tonight, but Taeyong feels like she might have ulterior motives, so he politely declines. _Tuesday, maybe? After econ?_

Ilhoon's message sits in his inbox, unread. The red notification irritates Taeyong, who likes his phone to be orderly, but his anxiety about marking it read overshadows his hate of clutter. There's a few messages in his email, three or four from professors, one from his mentor about a seminar coming up he might be interested in. He ticks the star so he can pay it more attention later.

There's another one, from a sender he doesn't recognize.

 **To:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)  
**From:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)

Hey, it's Johnny! Please be Taeyong. I was kind of drunk lol

As promised~ I took very careful notes for you, but I'm not sure how your notes usually look? I did my best. No flames please  
If you have any questions about lecture just lmk and I hope you're feeling better :) Taking care of yourself is those most important thing. Your body is the only thing we keep with us forever, you know? Be nice to it!

Best wishes,  
Johnny

_[img: Notes_Thurs.xdoc]_

   
"What are you looking at?"

Taeyong rips himself out of his phone, focusing back on Mark and Donghyuck. His face heats up. "Sorry. That's rude of me." Gently he sets his phone face down on the table and resumes his meal, even as embarrassment grips his heart in a tight fist.

Mark frowns. "It doesn't bother me," he says frankly. "I just asked because you were smiling a lot."

"Are they cute?" Donghyuck asks, popping a piece of meat into his mouth innocently.

"It's not—" Taeyong huffs. "It's just a guy from class."

"Alright," Donghyuck allows. "But is he cute?"

Taeyong thinks about Johnny. "I guess?" He has nice legs. He has a nice face. Taeyong hasn't paid much attention, but Johnny is cute. He's a lot taller than Taeyong — that's a nice thing.

"You guess?" Mark laughs. "You never change." It's fond, so it subverts the ache his words might have caused. Taeyong can admit it's a sensitive subject today.

"He's cute," Taeyong decides definitively. "And he's nice."

"That matters more," Mark says.

"I disagree," Donghyuck adds primly. "What's a man good for unless he's pretty to look at?" He looks at Mark pointedly. "That's why I'm marrying Taeyong."

Mark scowls. "I'm pretty!" he defends, and barely even reacts when Donghyuck coos, pulling at his ear.

"Prettiest baby." Even if Mark is older, Donghyuck doesn't seem to care. "But Taeyong is pretty and also knows how to fry an egg."

While Mark reels from the betrayal, Taeyong lets himself breathe easily. Even if he never changes, in this moment, he's happy.

 

* * *

 

On Monday, Taeyong comes back from his AM classes to find Ten sitting on the floor of their dorm room, staring at his phone like he's willing it to come to life. It's placed in the middle of their shitty rug, and Ten's eyebrows are drawn in an unusually tense expression as he glares at it.

Taeyong drops his backpack on hardwood loud enough to alert his roommate of his presence, but Ten barely reacts. "You alright, there?" Taeyong asks, shaking off his jacket and setting his shoes carefully by the door.

Delicately, Ten touches the space between his eyebrows, smoothing out the wrinkles with a sigh. "I'm too cute to be stressed about this, right?"

"That depends," Taeyong says, sitting down on his bed opposite his roommate and folding his feet underneath himself. Ten does look stressed, which means this probably has to do with dance, but Taeyong can't figure why Ten would be waiting for a phone call because of that, or whatever he's waiting for. "What is 'this'?"

Ten gestures firmly at his phone.

"Is it...broken?" Taeyong tries, laughing awkwardly because in all honesty he has no idea what the issue is.

With a wail, Ten falls backward to lie flat on the floor. " _I'm_ broken!"

"That seems extreme," Taeyong replies mildly.

Ten curls up into a ball. "I'm waiting for a boy to text me back. _Me! Waiting_ for a boy. Unacceptable."

Gently, Taeyong prods Ten with his foot, trying to be comforting. "What boy?"

"I met him at Sehun's party," Ten admits, sitting up and sighing. "You'd think I was drunk enough to forget about him but _no_ — Drunk Ten gave him my number and now Sober Ten is _broken._ "

"You text boys all the time."

"Wrong." Ten points an accusatory finger at Taeyong. "Boys text me."

Taeyong remembers Johnny saying that Ten was getting up to something with a boy at the party, remembers Ten coming to his aid very drunk and very debauched, but it's hardly the first time Ten has found someone at a party. The entire situation was written off in Taeyong's memory as average and then forgotten. In all honesty, Ten _only_ making out with a stranger is underwhelming; most nights Taeyong returns home by himself.

He supposes this is different, though — Ten rarely thinks about them afterwards.

Ten picks up his phone and shoves it under Taeyong's nose. "I texted him like _three hours ago_ and he hasn't even read it yet! Like...what am I supposed to think?"

"That he's busy?" Taeyong tries, unsurprised when Ten scoffs.

"Too busy for the super cute boy who kissed him at a party and miraculously still wants to talk to him? Unlikely."

Taeyong doesn't think telling Ten how likely that is would make him feel any better, but also Ten has more experience with these kinds of relationships. When it comes to matters of the heart, Taeyong is laughably out of his depth. "If he doesn't want to text, you can't make him."

Ten is frowning at the phone screen. "I know," he says with a huff. The wrinkles on his forehead smooth out and he looks at the floor. "But I still want him to text me."

Taeyong looks at his roommate and wishes he had better advice for this kind of thing. "You gave him your number...that means he texted you first, right?"

"Yeah." Ten taps his mouth gently with his phone, but the thought doesn't seem to appease him. "He just wanted to make sure I got home okay."

"That's something."

"He's just a nice guy," Ten argues. "Nice guys do that and it's not flirting."

Maybe. "You're so awesome, Ten," Taeyong tells him. "If he isn't interested, he's missing out."

Ten scoots forward and hugs Taeyong's legs, putting his head on Taeyong's knee and letting Taeyong pet his hair. This is a comfort Taeyong can provide. "Thanks," Ten says softly. "I know that something happened at the party and that's probably more important to you than my boy problem, but thanks for listening."

"You're important to me," Taeyong tells him, even if mentioning the events of the night has Taeyong stiffening. He runs his fingers through Ten's hair and stares at the wall. "My problems aren't more important than your problems."

"Does...did it have something to do with Sehun?"

Taeyong purses his lips. "Sort of." In a way, yes, it had everything to do with Sehun, but Taeyong will be damned if he can pinpoint how. Sehun was the trigger, but Ilhoon hasn't elaborated on the cause of his ire, and they haven't talked since that night. His _sorry_ is still a red notification on Taeyong's phone. "It's a lot of things, but Sehun is part of it."

Ten hums in understanding. "Did he do something? Do I need to hire someone to beat him up?"

The idea is absurd. Taeyong laughs. "No. Sehun is...a perfect gentleman." Even inviting Taeyong up to his room hadn't felt greasy or untoward. It just felt wrong to Taeyong, like something in his chest wasn't clicking. His fault, not Sehun's.

Ten is uncharacteristically quiet, just for a moment. "You can talk to me, you know," he says eventually. "I know you feel like you can't, but you can."

"It's not that I don't want to talk about it, it's just that it's stupid," Taeyong admits. He smooths down Ten's hair with great intent, focusing on the rhythm. It calms down Taeyong's heart, although he couldn't explain why it's beating so loudly.

There's a gentle hand around Taeyong's ankle, and Ten squeezes in solidarity. "Please tell me."

Two heartbeats and Taeyong breaks. "I'm afraid of..." It's hard to say it, because Taeyong doesn't understand it. "Everything about Sehun is right, and I'm wrong."

Ten raises his head to look Taeyong in the eye. "Don't say that," he says firmly. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"Then why do I feel so fucked up about this?" Taeyong asks. "It's simple. Sehun is nice and he's interested in me and I'm..." _whatever I am._

"But that's okay." Ten squints up at Taeyong. "Just because Sehun is nice doesn't mean he deserves your time."

"I'm just scared," Taeyong says, mostly to himself. "The idea of being pursued is just scary. That's all." He laughs. "I told you it was stupid."

Ten doesn't say anything. "If that's the case, maybe you should just try hanging out with him? Like, as friends? And see what happens."

"I don't know if it's that easy." Sehun happened and it wasn't a big deal. Taeyong can forget the hot touches and Sehun's tangled bedsheets and the feeling of it all, but he's not sure Sehun has or wants to, and that might be the issue.

"But it doesn't have to be hard." Ten rests his head back on Taeyong's knee. "That's up to you."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong meets Mina and Ilhoon during one of the worst parts of his freshman year — orientation week.

He was a homebody away from home, surrounded by a thousand other freshman desperate to befriend _someone,_ anyone, and every time someone approached him he felt more like a victim of assault than on the receiving end of potential friendship. He should stare blankly and shy away and busied himself with completing his paperwork in peace.

It's funny that his shyness was alluring to people. He supposes that's just because people wanted to attach to each other so badly. He was unusual in that he was actively avoiding it.

Mina didn't care. "I saw you in 101," she'd said when they were put in their smaller orientation groups. "You looked so scary." It was probably offensive, but Taeyong remembers being mystified more than anything. "We can be friends."

"Leave the poor kid alone," the boy at her side had said. He was much taller than both Mina and Taeyong, and comfortable in his skin, and he smiled at Taeyong a little tightly. "Let's just be orientation partners for now."

"That sounds okay," Taeyong remembers saying automatically. Casual acquaintanceship was less intimidating that aggressive friendship. They could agree on that much.

"This is Ilhoon," Mina had introduced. "He's also scary but he's nice. Apparently I look for that in men."

It hadn't been easy. Mina was loud and extroverted and kind, and that kindness brought out the kindness is Taeyong, but his walls were up from the beginning. Still, that might be the thing Taeyong appreciates about them the most — they kept trying. That's important to him.

They kept trying until they didn't have to try anymore, and Taeyong isn't sure when they made the switch from begrudging partners to actual friends, but it'd felt natural at the time.

Taeyong wonders when they started having to work for it again.

 _i feel like i haven't seen you in forever :/_ Mina texts. _i wanna catch up!_

But Mina has always been closer to Ilhoon than to Taeyong, and Taeyong is terrified of what he isn't ready to hear, so now he has two angry red notifications and a heavy heart.

 

* * *

 

Ilhoon is waiting for Taeyong outside of his first class on Tuesday morning.

Outside of _Taeyong's_ first class — Ilhoon's first class isn't until noon, and it's on the other side of campus. The other boy looks up from where he's sitting cross legged on the floor, having heard Taeyong coming, and when they make eye contact Taeyong stifles down something bitter. Ilhoon might be here to make amends, but it's still on his own terms.

There's also the possibility that he's here to make things worse, although Taeyong doubts it. It doesn't make much of a difference. Taeyong isn't emotionally prepared to handle either of those situations this morning.

He stops in front of his friend anyway. "Good morning." Stiff, but polite. Taeyong imagines he does look rather cold right now. A part of him hopes Ilhoon says something so Taeyong has an excuse to snap back. In this, at least, he can defend himself; Ilhoon deserves his coldness.

But Ilhoon slumps the tiniest bit further into the ground, just for a split second, and in that moment Taeyong knows he isn't here to be cruel. "Taeyong." He scrambles up from the floor. He doesn't even have his backpack with him. Taeyong wonders vaguely how long he's been waiting here. "Hi. Good morning." He shoves his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

Taeyong grips the strap of his own backpack. "Is that really all you're going to say? 'Good morning?'"

Ilhoon grimaces. "No." But he still looks like he's lost for words. He just stares at Taeyong, like Taeyong is going to hold out the olive branch.

Maybe Taeyong should. He's already tired of this.

Ilhoon looks exhausted and miserable. He'd been exhausted and miserable at the party, but this is a different monster. It eats at Taeyong, regardless. But if Ilhoon hasn't taken the time to put together an apology, then Taeyong isn't going to be the one to take the first step — not when his friend approached him in the first place.

It takes barely a second for Taeyong to validate his own bitterness, and in that time Ilhoon has collected enough of his thoughts. "I'm really...I'm sorry."

"For showing up here or for the party?" Taeyong asks plainly.

"I…" Ilhoon runs a nervous hand through his hair, and Taeyong hates making people feel this way, but he's angry and he can't help it. "I just knew you wouldn't answer my texts."

"Texts?" Taeyong frowns. "You sent me one word immediately after ripping me to shreds. No, I didn't respond to that." With a deep breath, he eases his grip on the backpack. If he gets angry, Ilhoon will get angry, and Taeyong doesn't have the vitriol to beat him at his sharpest. "I was hurting."

Ilhoon releases a shaky breath. "I know." He's upset. Taeyong knows what Ilhoon looks when he's devastated and holding it back. Maybe he's holding back his sadness for the same reason Taeyong is holding back his anger; neither one of them wants to trigger an avalanche. "God, Taeyong, I know. I'm sorry. I...I don't even know what that was."

Taeyong watches Ilhoon stares at his shoes for a moment. "Maybe you should figure it out." Quiet. Firm. As civil as Taeyong can manage, but it leaks whatever hurt he hasn't been able to hold tightly under his thumb.

"I…" Ilhoon huffs. "Yeah."

"If you're so guilty you can't look me in the eye, why did you say any of it in the first place?" Taeyong asks. He doesn't want to air his laundry in the middle of the hallway, but if he doesn't ask it now he never will.

Ilhoon does look him in the eyes, then. He is guilty. He's dripping with it. "I was drunk."

It's not really what Taeyong wants to hear. "And honest?"

"No." Ilhoon shakes his head, jaw clenched. Nothing more.

Taeyong is done pulling teeth. "Maybe you should drink less."

The tension in Ilhoon pops like a balloon, and he looks so defeated for someone in the wrong. "I should. I'm working on it." He's earnest, at least. Taeyong feels his ice melting. "I...I hate myself for saying those things to you. I didn't...you have to know I didn't mean them."

Taeyong holds it for one breath, maybe two, but he knows himself. He'll always let it go, in the end. "I know." He doesn't. Deep down, up front, he knows he doesn't. But Ilhoon can't change what he already said, and Taeyong can't stop himself from overthinking. "Just…" He looks at Ilhoon flatly, exhausted. "Give me warning next time instead of showing up out of nowhere. Please?"

"Yeah, I'll...I'll text you." Ilhoon nearly shakes with relief, and he scratches the back of his neck. "I didn't know how else to pin you down."

Taeyong thinks that there are plenty of options between a single sorry and a sudden ambush, but Ilhoon has always lived in the extremes of black and white. He takes a deep breath. "Maybe...don't, next time." He checks the time on his phone. "I need to get to class," he says, even though he still has four minutes before it starts.

Ilhoon isn't stupid. He knows Taeyong, and he knows Taeyong is trying to get out of a situation he would rather not be in, but he's graceful when he lets it slide. "I'll get out of your hair." He bows slightly — an odd, aborted motion — and stares at Taeyong for a heartbeat before shaking something off. "I'm so sorry."

"I know." It's weird. Usually apologies are supposed to supposed to lift a weight off your shoulders, but they both look like they'd rather sink into the floor. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Take your time." Ilhoon moves to pass Taeyong, his hand reaching out to touch Taeyong's shoulder. He hesitates; he should be hesitating, but Taeyong doesn't mind when he does it anyway. He loves Ilhoon, even if he's angry and they're both hurting.

Taeyong pushes into the classroom and takes a deep breath, letting the door hit his back. He takes the moment. He needs it. He needs something.

He takes his seat.

For a moment he just stares at the whiteboard, letting his brain catch up, but it's not long before he realizes he doesn't want to analyze how he's feeling. Ilhoon apologized. He should take that at its full value instead of wondering whether he's ready to accept it. He isn't — that isn't Ilhoon's fault.

Taeyong breathes, eyes closed, and then reaches into his backpack to take out his laptop.

The other students trickle in as Taeyong organizes his notes from the last few lectures. He's slowly been folding Johnny's notes into his own, reformatting them to fit his established structure, highlighting things that he thinks might be important. It's an emotionless process. Comforting.

He knows exactly when Johnny walks into the classroom because 1) he's big and 2) he stops in his tracks when he sees the look on Taeyong's face. Taeyong knows because Johnny is a lot of things but he isn't subtle.

It's dumb. Johnny barely pays Taeyong any attention in this class usually, and they aren't even really friends, and Taeyong meets Johnny's eyes for a second, a millisecond, before turning back towards his computer and sinking further in his seat. He holds his breath until Johnny sits down and then he melts with relief. If Johnny asked him how he was doing Taeyong honestly wouldn't be able to answer. Taeyong wouldn't know what to do if Johnny talked to him at all. There's very little precedent for that, but each time seems to be when Taeyong is at his worst.

The professor walking in is a welcome relief. It's a distraction, if Taeyong can get himself to focus. He's got Google Docs and his email and that's all he needs. He doesn't need Ilhoon or an apology or anything. He just needs to get through the day.

Twenty minutes into lecture his email pings.

It's from Johnny. Taeyong looks over towards Johnny's desk and sees Johnny not-so-subtly trying to watch Taeyong over his shoulder. Taeyong huffs. Everyone around him likes to meddle. It makes keeping to himself difficult.

He checks the email anyway.

 **To:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)  
**From:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lAIGb1lfpBw You're welcome uwu

Best wishes,  
Johnny

   
Taeyong is afraid to click on the link. He doesn't know Johnny well enough to guess what it is, and he looks at Johnny incredulously over the top of his computer only to find Johnny looking back, expectant.

Taeyong starts a new email.

 **To:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)  
**From:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)

What is this???? I'm not opening a random video in the middle of lecture what if it's porn

   
Two minutes later Johnny chokes on his own spit. Taeyong is only mildly proud of himself, plastering something innocent over his smug expression. The professor halts discussion to make sure that Johnny is okay, and it's endearing watching him trying to wave away the concern.

By the time his email pings again, Taeyong is holding back a smile.

 **To:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)  
**From:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)

It is not porn!!!!! I'm a gentleman!!!!! You're the devil! :c  
They are cats and they are good beans! They play instruments! Don't besmirch their artistry with your perversions!

Best wishes,  
Johnny

   
Taeyong purses his lips and shakes his head, but his smile grows. He can't help it.

 **To:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)  
**From:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)

I do trust the cats, I just don't trust people who still use email hmmm

   
Taeyong watches Johnny flex fingers when he checks his email, but he switches tabs back to his notes and pays attention to the teacher. The practice exam is on Thursday. Taeyong really does need to focus.

He's always been a diligent student, if only because the fear of not doing well overwhelms the desire to let his mind wander. Teachers like him — he cares, and usually that's enough to get on their good side if he keeps his head down.

So when the professor's eyes snap back to him in the middle of a sentence Taeyong's first instinct is that he's done something horribly wrong.

"Mr. Seo," she starts, and Taeyong is even more confused, until he looks over at Johnny and sees him snapping his head back towards to front of the room. "I'm sure Mr. Lee's face is very interesting but I'm sure he's trying to learn despite your efforts."

The noise Taeyong makes is somewhere between a laugh and a scream, strangled down, but Johnny doesn't seem to mind being called out in front of the class. "I'm sorry, Professor," he says politely, hands clasped together on top of his keyboard. Taeyong can be embarrassed for the both of them. "I'll pay closer attention."

Taeyong stares into the void for three seconds, he counts, before returning to his email.

 **To:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)  
**From:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)

Is this your way of asking for my number? :o

Best wishes,  
Johnny

   
Taeyong thinks that Johnny is kind of an idiot. He makes a face, eyes flicking up to stare at the back of Johnny's head, but the other man is making good on his promise to pay attention. Taeyong stares a little harder, squinting. Johnny listens dutifully to the lecturer while a video of marching cats plays silently on his computer. There's a stupid smile on his face when he turns his head in Taeyong's direction, and Taeyong just scoffs.

Johnny is kind of an idiot, but it doesn't bother Taeyong.

 

* * *

 

 **To:** Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)  
**From:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)

(xxx)xxx-xxxx  
Just in case!

Best wishes,  
Johnny

 

* * *

 

Taeyong doesn't think about Ilhoon until halfway through his next class, and can't bring himself to be more than mildly sour. He's thankful. He hates being in a bad mood.

He's never had an easy time making friends, but Johnny has successfully distracted him from his own thoughts, so Taeyong supposes they're friends now.

He saves the number in his phone and lets it be a step forward.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong agrees to meet up with Sehun for lunch four days after his conversation with Ten. He's annoying himself with how much he's going back and forth, but Ten is right that it's as difficult as Taeyong makes it. He wants to be happy. There's nothing Taeyong wants more than for that to be easy.

He wants to feel something because that would easier.

Sehun continues being a gentleman, but it's clear that Taeyong agreeing to meet with him has him excited and beaming. It's a good look on him, even if it doesn't do anything to Taeyong's heart. "I saw you around before that first night, you know?" he's saying, taking a bite of his sandwich, grinning as he wipes sauce off his chin. "I see you around campus but you're never really paying attention to anyone."

"Ah, yeah." Taeyong scratches his neck. "I've been told I'm hard to get to know."

"I've always thought it's worth putting in the effort when you want something," Sehun replies, his eyes lowering to Taeyong's mouth. Taeyong doesn't know what to do with that.

He takes a sip of his tea instead of thinking about it too hard.

He'd accepted meeting with Sehun on the basis that it wasn't a date, but it's hard to draw the line when they both know Sehun is interested in pursuing something. Taeyong rolls that thought around, trying to figure out whether he's comfortable with it or not (he isn't) and why that might be (he has no idea). Sehun has done all the right things.

"You put a lot of effort into a lot of people," Taeyong says carefully, holding his drink with both hands.

For what it's worth, Sehun doesn't try to deny it. "I'll admit I get infatuated easily," he says. "Or...I see beauty in a lot of people."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that." Even if Taeyong doesn't relate, he thinks there are a lot of things to love in a lot of people, and if Sehun is capable of that then maybe he's a better person than Taeyong is.

"I don't usually meet up with them after the one night," Sehun continues, looking at Taeyong as though to gauge his reaction.

Taeyong lets the silence settle to collect his thoughts. "I'm honored," he says finally, foot tapping gently against the leg of the table to force out the jitters. "I don't think I'm that special, though."

"We can agree to disagree," Sehun tells him cheerfully, and Taeyong feels a horrible kind of disconnect that he wishes didn't exist. He's not even sure if it _does_ exist — Sehun can't seem to feel it. "Tell me about your day."

Taeyong launches into a detailed overview of his week, of his struggling with his accounting classes, glossing over anything too personal. Sehun doesn't need to know about his struggles with Mina and Ilhoon nor about his roommate's boy trouble. If Sehun wants to ask about the party that weekend, he holds back. It's refreshing, almost, to have someone who doesn't want to meddle. Taeyong assumes he knows something, because Johnny is his housemate and Johnny knows, but the topic never gets brought beyond Sehun verbalizing how much he enjoyed dancing together.

Something isn't fitting together. He isn't sure whether it's the wrong puzzle piece or if he's just trying to make it fit in the wrong direction. He'll just keeping turning it over in his mind until it fits — or until he starts seeing a different picture.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong is watching cats march in the campus café when someone presses something wet and cold against his neck.

He screams and doesn't feel ashamed of it, but when he turns around it's just Mina holding out an iced coffee and trying not to laugh. "You don't look happy to see me," she says, cheeky, even if there's a hidden truth in it. "I even brought you a gift."

She looks sweet today, hair pulled back out of her face and makeup dabbed lightly on her cheeks and mouth. Underneath it all, she looks tired. Taeyong can relate; underneath it all, he's tired. Bone-deep.

He's already in the process of moving his things over to provide Mina space at the table. "I'm always happy to see you." He nearly throws his books on the floor in an effort to collect himself, but Mina sits down delicately and sets the extra coffee down by Taeyong's laptop. She sips her own drink, something with lots of foam, and she goes about setting up her own study area. The stickers on the back of her laptop are cute and friendly — like things should be, even if the air between them is tense.

Mina focuses on her work, whining when she pulls up her social media project. "My group hasn't done a single thing." She blows her hair out of her face. "I wrote out an entire task list and only one other person has checked anything off."

"Whip them into shape," Taeyong advises, smiling as he bites the end of his straw. "You're the alpha."

"I _am_ the alpha," she sniffs, setting her shoulders and beginning to type furiously. The sounds of her nails on the keys is loud, even in the clatter of the coffee shop, but it's soothing, too. A friendly kind of noise.

Taeyong waits a moment, but Mina is immediately engrossed in her project, and he slips his other earphone back and continues clicking through stupid videos.

The drink is a peace offering. So is Mina's silence.

Taeyong isn't sure what he's done to deserve either, when all he's done is avoid her, but he won't complain if that's one less thing to feel guilty about.

He takes a deep breath and pauses his video. It feels like taking the plunge. "Sorry I ghosted you."

Mina looks up at him and takes a measured sip of her drink. There's foam on her upper lip. She wipes it off absently, eyes back on her computer. "I'm sorry you felt like you had to."

That's that.

Taeyong is lucky. Loving is hard but somehow he's surrounded by people who always manage.

 

* * *

 

The practice exam on Thursday goes okay, even though Taeyong has no actual idea how well he did. He'd spent the night before in his bedroom with Ten, quizzing himself on information he already knew, and once Ten abandoned him for bed he kept going. Taeyong's body is meant to burn the midnight oil. Sometimes rest feels like an opportunity for something bitter to set in, and the exam is a good excuse to keep pressing forward.

When it's over, Taeyong sits at his desk and wonders what to do with himself.

It's easy to tell himself that he's alright when he's busy, but free time makes his anxiety spike. He has no classes for the rest of the day to distract himself with. Sehun texts him thirty minutes after the exam, just checking in, and Taeyong would rather die than respond to it. Ilhoon wants to go to karaoke and Taeyong doesn't have the mental capacity to smooth down his own thoughts tonight. He's tired and shaky. Exhausted.

It's stupid that people wanting his company is enough to make him anxious. Taeyong hates that about himself.

Still, he doesn't want to be stuck in his own company. His brain is far too loud.

Taeyong stops by the dorm room to change and heads to the dance studios.

It's been such a long time that he barely recognizes any of the people there. There's a freshman practicing a routine Taeyong recognizes as Ten's choreography from the showcase the year before. Ten still uses it when he has to student teach, and Taeyong knows it by heart, but he doesn't bother lending a helping hand because the freshman looks like he'll fall apart if anyone so much as looks in his direction.

There are other people scattered around, a couple of girls chattering as they collaborate on a project and a boy wearing a bathrobe who seems to be doing yoga with a serious expression on his face. In the corner, the one person Taeyong recognizes is sitting on the floor eating noodles.

Jaehyun smiles at him, all dimple. "You're Ten's roommate, right?" he asks. He and Taeyong aren't really friends, but he seems kind and polite and Taeyong appreciates that in people. Taeyong takes a chance and puts his bag down at Jaehyun's side, unzipping his jacket. "He said you come by sometimes, but I haven't seen you."

"I don't dance as much as I used to," Taeyong admits, rolling his head on his shoulders. "I'm too busy with school but..."

"It's nice, sometimes." Jaehyun nods in agreement, slurping his noodles. You're not supposed to eat in the studios, but if no one has said anything to him yet Taeyong isn't going to be the one to put his foot down. "I'm just here to help Jungwoo." He gestures towards the nervous freshman, who seems to be doing just fine without help.

"He's good," Taeyong says, and Jungwoo must hear him because his steps stutter.

"He just freaks out." Jaehyun doesn't make any moves to correct his younger friend, just looks at him fondly. "I'm here for moral support only."

"Ten would help him in heartbeat," Taeyong offers. "I could text him?"

Jaehyun shrugs. "He's busy. Besides, Jungwoo is scared of him."

Ten might be the least intimidating person Taeyong has ever met, but he's seen Ten in his underwear eating cereal from the box at three in the morning and Jungwoo probably hasn't. "I see," he says evenly. He digs out his headphones from his bag. "Well, I'm here, I guess, if either of you need me."

"I'm gonna get it," Jungwoo tells himself softly in the mirror, even as he fumbles through a tricky bit of footwork. "Eventually. Probably." His face is red. There's sweat dripping from his forehead. "When I'm done I’m going to get noodles."

"That's the spirit." Taeyong presses play on his phone.

He's forgotten how easy it is, to forget yourself. Taeyong should try to do this more often. His brain is loud but the music is louder in a way that drowns out all noise. If Taeyong focuses on something simple, it's almost like he doesn't have anything to worry about.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong has never been sexiled on a Thursday. It's a new experience.

For the most part, Ten is an ideal roommate. He's supportive and kind and keeps his shit in his own area, and he only eats Taeyong's food some of the time, and he almost always texts Taeyong when he brings someone home or when he's sleeping somewhere else so Taeyong knows he can lock the door.

But sometimes he doesn't.

Taeyong stands outside of his dorm room listening to the familiar sounds of Ten's moans mixed with the couch hitting the wall and sighs heavily. Honestly, Taeyong doesn't understand why Ten ever bothers taking people over to their room; Ten sleeps on the top bunk and he never makes it all the way up there before things get going. Their couch is not comfortable. Taeyong's bed has been a victim of nefarious activities more times than Taeyong would like to admit, but Ten always washes the sheets and buys him a milkshake afterwards.

Still.

It's almost midnight on a Thursday, and Ten invited someone over without warning, and Taeyong rifles through the list of possible places he could go. Mina's roommates aren't comfortable with a strange guy staying over. He's gone over to Ilhoon's before but...

Taeyong runs a hand through his hair. He's been at the studio for almost the entire day. He wants to shower. There's studio grime all over his hands. He'd touched the ballet barre for a millisecond and he's felt sticky ever since. Is it worth it to interrupt his roommate to get his shower shit and make a break for it?

With a sigh, Taeyong decides that it's not.

He's got a bad idea, but it's the best case scenario.

Taeyong texts Sehun.

**Oh Sehun**

Hey! Sorry I forgot to reply earlier! The exam went okay TTTT I'm glad it's over  
I was wondering if I could ask a favor?

 

Taeyong feels an awful lot like he's using someone who would never tell him no, but he feels awful about a lot of things. And he's gross and wants a shower. And a bed. He's not getting either if he stands here outside of his room all night.

Besides. Whatever the consequences are, he's done it already. Sehun's writing something, three dots at the bottom of the chat. _Sure! What's up?_

I've been sexiled TTTT  
I was wondering if I could sleep on your couch or something?

Sexiled? On a Thurs???

That's what I said!!! My roommate is a monster

Lmao  
Well bad news I'm not actually in town tonight :(  
I'm skipping my Fri classes and went home for the weekend

 

Taeyong feels his heart sink, but his brain is already running through other options. He could sleep in the library. He's done it before exams before. It's not ideal, but there are couches on the top floor if he can establish dominance over the other college zombies and claim one for himself.

He doesn't even realize Sehun is still typing until his phone dings again. _Johnny is home! Do you guys know each other? He'd probably let you crash_

Taeyong stares at the message for a moment. He hadn't even thought about Johnny. Does he know Johnny well enough to ask to spend the night? Taeyong isn't even sure he knows Sehun well enough for that, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Maybe.

He tugs at his hair worriedly.

Do you really think he'd let me stay?  
I feel bad even asking you...

You can always ask me for anything!  
And Johnny is cool when he's not being super lame lmao  
Plus he's a bleeding heart. He'd never leave such a cute boy out in the cold u.u  
Do you need his number?

 

Taeyong's stomach rolls nervously — _No! Thank you! I have it :)_ — and he shifts through his contacts. The jitters he'd forced out at the studio have miraculously returned full-force, but he presses on _Johnny Seo_ almost mechanically, fate sealed.

Calls are worse than text messages. Taeyong must be out of his damn mind.

Johnny picks up on the fourth ring, right when Taeyong thought he might be safe. "Hello?" he asks, voice muffled and sleepy, and Taeyong winces.

"Were you asleep? Fuck." He runs a hand down his face. "I'm sorry. I just need a place to stay and like, Sehun said you were home and probably would be up for putting up with me for the night, but if not that's completely fine. I know it's super last minute."

There's silence on the other end of the line. "Uh..." Johnny coughs awkwardly. "Is this...Taeyong?"

Taeyong wants to die. "Yes." Clipped.

"Okay." There's rustling. Taeyong doesn't know whether Johnny was actually asleep or not (it's pretty early for a college student, Taeyong thinks, as the clock flips over into a new day) but it sounds like he's in bed. "And...you need to come over?"

"I've been sexiled."

"On a Thursday?" Incredulous.

Taeyong allows himself a small smile. "My roommate is insatiable, I guess."

"Damn." Johnny whistles. His voice is more present now than it had been when he first picked up. "Yeah, I don't care. Our couch pulls out. You're more than welcome."

"You're the best." Taeyong is already pushing his way into the stairwell. "I'll be there in like twenty minutes. Is that okay?"

"I'll be up." Johnny hums absently. "Drive safe."

It sounds oddly genuine, even though it's a fifteen minute drive, tops. "I will," Taeyong replies. "Thank you so much, again."

"Don't worry about it. See you soon."

Taeyong hangs up. There's still something tight around his ribcage as he clambers into his car one more time, but it doesn't feel quite so oppressive as before — just dangerous.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong didn't think he'd be back at Sehun and Johnny's house so soon. He wasn't planning on coming back at all. He parks in the driveway and laughs, just for a moment. Hopefully this ends better than the last time.

He gets out of his car, trusting blindly that it will.

Maybe he slams his car door too hard, or maybe he takes too long to haul himself up the porch towards the door, but it's already open when he gets there. Johnny is leaning against the door way, smiling mildly. His hair is slightly wet and very disheveled. He's wearing a giant sweatshirt (it's giant on him, Taeyong can only imagine what it would be like on himself) and flannel pants and slippers. There are glasses on his nose, the same kind Taeyong's grandpa wears.

It's weird standing there, supremely uncomfortable, in front of someone so at ease. Taeyong cares about everything and Johnny cares about the things that matter and nothing else.

Taeyong is jealous. He plasters something friendly on his face. "I'm really sorry about this." His workout bag has spare clothes and little else. He's unprepared in every way. He clutches the strap, white-knuckled.

Johnny just shrugs, and when he smiles it's genuine. "I made hot chocolate if you want some." He steps aside, letting Taeyong step into the house. "If not, I'll drink all of it, no problem."

"Nice of you," Taeyong says, almost laughing.

"Drinking hot chocolate? It's really my pleasure." Johnny pushes his glasses up. He's beaming in a sleepy way, with stars in his eyes.

Taeyong really does think Johnny is kind of an idiot. His chest feels weird. "I'll take a cup."

The house looks a lot different when it's empty. The furniture is draped with blankets instead of couples, and the air smells more like cinnamon and socks than beer. There is a small mountain of shoes by the door, and Taeyong carefully toes his off and sets them aside. A scarf hangs by the door, one Taeyong thinks he remembers Johnny wearing to class. The house is still a mess, cluttered rather than disgusting. It's clear Johnny hadn't been expecting company. Still, he balances it easily, walking into the kitchen to grab them both a mug. "Do you need anything? Can't believe your roommate kicked you on a weekday." Johnny clicks his tongue like an old woman. "Youth these days."

"I'm surprised, too." Taeyong watches Johnny pour the hot chocolate; he has it heating in a pot on the stove and he ladles it in two novelty mugs with great focus and care. Taeyong can't remember the last time he had hot chocolate that wasn't from a packet or a Keurig. "Usually he's good about telling me."

"Sometimes it be like that," Johnny says sagely. "Do you want whipped cream?"

Taeyong laughs, awkward. "I'm okay."

Johnny hands one of the mugs to him. It's shaped like Pikachu's head. Taeyong takes it gracefully. "Seriously, though. Do you need like, clothes or a tooth brush or something?"

"A toothbrush would be...so good." There's nothing Taeyong wants more at this moment than a toothbrush, except maybe — "And maybe a shower?"

Johnny scoffs. "Give me a challenge."

There is both a shower and an extra toothbrush, and Johnny takes Taeyong up the stairs to show him the guest bathroom — "Ours is like...gross..." Johnny had admitted, telling Taeyong to completely bypass the one right by the stairs. He pulls towels out of the closet and shows Taeyong how the shower works, mumbling sometimes into his mug when he runs out of things to say.

"Okie dokie," he says, standing back and looking at Taeyong expectantly. Taeyong looks back at him blankly. "Do you need anything else?"

"Um." Taeyong looks around the bathroom. There's a little frog mat on the floor by the toilet and a Tony the Tiger onesie hanging over the towel hanger. Johnny seems unashamed even as Taeyong stares at it trying to figure out why it's there. "I'll just..." He gestures towards the shower.

"Right, right." Johnny bows his head a little, laughing as he backs out of the bathroom. "I'm here if you need anything. Take your time. Sehun is rich so don't worry about the water bill."

Taeyong laughs despite himself. It's a weird way to end a conversation (Taeyong isn't really sure if it's a joke or not) but Johnny is already gone. Taeyong hugs the towel to his chest. It smells like something sweet and also like it's maybe been sitting in the closet a little too long. He smooths out the frayed edge with careful fingers and sets it down gently on the toilet seat. His hands remember how Johnny explained the shower, even if his brain is too foggy to remember anything, and he strips out of his dirty clothes. He looks at himself in the mirror: kind of skinny, needs a haircut, too tired to function.

The shower starts fogging the mirror and Taeyong steps in.

It's comforting, like everything melts off, everything extra. His feet ache. He feels bone-deep tired, but if he tries to pinpoint a reason he comes up empty. It's been a long, barely-getting-through kind of week.

He steals the soap that smells the nicest and scrubs his skin cherry-red. The muscles in his neck are tense under his fingers. Taeyong stands under the spray too long.

Showers are healing. They melt away they extra, they get rid of the grime of the day, and when Taeyong gets out he's full of new resolves; he's going to be friendly. Johnny deserves that much.

He's not sure why this requires resolve — Johnny has been nothing but nice to him, and Taeyong can usually manage to be friendly back. For some reason, the idea of leaving the safety of the shower and trying to be cordial in an awkward situation is so much worse when he thinks he is going to be around Johnny. It makes his stomach feel funny.

Taeyong's hot chocolate is cold on the sink when he gets out of the shower. His dirty clothes are sitting on the floor. Everything is right where he left them. The mirror is clouded, and when Taeyong wipes his hand across the glass, it's the same; he still looks skinny, unkept, and tired. Consistency is soothing.

His sweatpants are scratchy and his t-shirt sticks to his damp skin. Dutifully, Taeyong unwraps the fresh toothbrush and digs out a tube of toothpaste that either Johnny or Sehun must have castaway at some point. He almost feels human by the time he gently picks up the mug and makes his way back to the living room.

Johnny is in the process of putting sheets on the makeshift bed. He must have pulled out the couch while Taeyong was in the shower. There's a cluster of throw pillows in a pile on the floor, and a quilt sitting on a chair, and the television is playing some drama that Taeyong has seen on Netflix but never watched. Johnny's giving it very little of his attention, but he's mouthing along with some of the words, and it's clear he's seen it plenty of times. Johnny's own mug is sitting slightly off to the side, but the room smells like coffee instead of chocolate.

Taeyong heads into the kitchen and delicately sets his mug in the microwave. There's more sitting in the pot on the stove, but Taeyong doesn't like to waste things, and the chocolate was good and sweet. He's doesn't even care that he just brushed his teeth. He wants the sugar.

"Do you need any help?" he asks, walking back into the living room, mug steaming properly. The first sip comes with a grimace — spearmint and chocolate — but he'll bear it. He licks his lips.

Johnny straightens up immediately, too jerky to have known Taeyong was there before, but his mouth just opens slightly for a moment and then he's back at ease. "Can you help me with the fitted sheet? We're having an argument and it's winning."

Taeyong finds making the bed relaxing, and between the two of them it's done up in no time. Johnny gives Taeyong one of the extra pillows off of his bed and a teddy bear that Taeyong doesn't really know what to do with but Johnny insists that he have.

By the time they're situated, it's almost one in the morning, and Taeyong expects Johnny to wave goodnight and head back upstairs to his room, guest settled and host duties fulfilled. Instead, he sits down on the couch, legs crossed underneath himself. "So, you had a long day?"

"I..." Taeyong holds the mug tightly in his hands. He stares at a spot on the wall. "Yeah." Clears his throat. "Sorry if I woke you up. I know it's late."

Johnny snorts. "Not really, for me." He scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know if you know or not, but my friend and I do a radio show at like, ass o' clock a couple times a week because we're horrible night owls."

"I know," Taeyong says before he can stop himself, but Johnny looks pleased. "I uh, I have trouble sleeping sometimes, and the background noise is nice, so I'll listen. Sometimes."

"You should write in some time," Johnny says, excited, and Taeyong thinks that will never happen because Taeyong is Taeyong, but it's nice of Johnny to seem pleased about the prospect. "We take music requests and stuff, and just chat sometimes. It's chill."

Maybe Taeyong is visibly hesitant, because Johnny just smiles. "You don't have to."

"It's not...uh...I don't like making phone calls." Taeyong puts a hand to his cheek, embarrassed. "Only if I, like, know the person really well."

"We'll just have to work on it, then." Johnny laughs. It's clearly a joke. It doesn't have weight. Taeyong is thankful. "You seemed fine when you called me earlier?"

That's true. "I was distracted by everything, I think."

"Traumatized?" Johnny's eyes sparkle a little mischievously. He takes a sip from his mug, and it's definitely coffee — completely black and very fragrant. Probably bitter. Taeyong wrinkles his nose.

"I've seen Ten get fucked before," Taeyong says tiredly, giving Johnny a look when he chokes on his coffee. "Sorry."

Johnny pounds on his chest with his fist until he's finished coughing. "No, you're fine. I just..." He laughs, almost in disbelief. "I just didn't expect that from you?"

"Why not?" Taeyong asks, grouses. He purses his lips. He knows he's grumpy. He takes a drink of his microwaved hot chocolate and tells himself to calm down, but it doesn't stop the next thing out of his mouth. "Because I'm a prude?"

"You're a prude?" Johnny asks, eyebrows raised. "I never thought you were prudish."

Taeyong blinks.

"Anyone who is friends with Ten can't be prudish." Johnny says it easily. He's not exactly smiling, his face is just kind of existing and open, and that does something weird in Taeyong's chest. "You just seem like you don't care about that kind of thing. Like..."

"Distant?"

"Yeah."

Taeyong sighs. "I've been getting that a lot recently." He's been feeling that a lot recently.

Johnny hums, low in his throat. He's still wearing his slippers, even if one is half-off, and he sets his mug down in his lap. His hair hangs in his face. "Really? I'm sorry if it's like..." He pauses. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Is that what we're doing?" Taeyong asks mildly. It really has been a long day.

"If that's what you want." Johnny pushes his glasses up on his nose. It's said nonchalantly enough that Taeyong really believes Johnny would accept it if he abruptly changed the subject.

But maybe a fresh point of view would be helpful, and there's nothing about Johnny that seems intimidating. Not now, when it's late and Johnny's face is so neutral and Taeyong is so tired. He wonders if Johnny knows how capable he is of being intimidating, completely terrifying to someone like Taeyong. He wonders if Johnny actively tries not to be that way. He wonders what Johnny is like when he's not late-night loose, when he's angry or upset. Taeyong thinks that's when you get to know a person the best, when they're at their worst.

Johnny has maybe seen Taeyong at his worst already.

"Sex has never really interested me that much," Taeyong admits slowly, staring down at his mug. He runs his finger around and around the edge. "But like...not just sex. Just kind of...people in general. People don't interest me."

"Oof." Johnny holds his hand to his chest, shot through the heart. "Harsh."

Taeyong looks at Johnny sharply. "No, I..." Ilhoon called him cruel. Are cruel and harsh any different? He swallows. "Is it...? I guess it is." Taeyong pulls at his hair with a sigh. It's still wet from the shower. It reminds him he's in the wrong place.

"You don't have to be interested in anyone," Johnny tells him, gentle, "or interested in sex or anything. That's not something you need in order to be like, a complete person." Earnest.

"I just feel like..." Taeyong pauses, squints at Johnny, halts his thoughts. "This is weird, right? That we're having this conversation right now? Like, are we there yet?"

Johnny smiles. "We can be." Takes a sip out of his ridiculous novelty mug. "It's not weird."

Taeyong likes Johnny. Johnny is easy in a way most things aren't these days.

Deep breath. One, two, three. "I feel like I'm experiencing life in a completely different way than everyone around me," Taeyong says eventually, "and I'm terrified that I'm always going to feel like that."

"Mmmm." Johnny, for what it's worth, acts like it isn't weird, and like they are close enough to be having these kind of conversations at one in the morning, and he takes another sip of his coffee. Looks at Taeyong with soft eyes. "Do you feel like...the way you're existing is less than how others do? Like you're missing something?"

"Yeah," Taeyong admits. "But I'm not sure if I'm capable of having it."

There's a measured silence. "What do you mean?"

Taeyong has never said these things out loud, or in his own head, and he hasn't had to find the words before. "Like...sometimes I feel like I'm not interesting in relationships because I'm a coward, and other times I think I'm not interested because I'm incapable of genuinely loving anyone."

As soon as it comes out of his mouth, Taeyong holds his hands up like a barrier. "This is a lot. I’m really sorry." He laughs. It's awkward laughter. Once he starts he can't stop. "Damnit."

"This is a sleepover. This is what you do at sleepovers," Johnny says mildly. "You talk about boys and your crippling emotional insecurities." He gestures to himself. "For example, I had a huge crush of Justin Timberlake until the ripe age of 21."

"I hate that," Taeyong says, laughing into his hands. "I hate this. I need more chocolate."

Johnny pries the mug from Taeyong's fingers and gets up to walk into the kitchen. Through the doorway, Taeyong watches Johnny turn the stove back on and stir the pot. "You know," Johnny says, his back towards Taeyong, "if you can't fall in love, there's nothing wrong with that either? It's not a bad thing."

"I want to fall in love." _I'm lonely._ "A big part of me thinks I'm just like, terrified of commitment."

"I'd say _same_ but I'm actually a hopeless romantic," Johnny tells him, tapping the spoon and picking up the ladle. "I'm ready to commit literally always."

Taeyong sighs. "Lucky you."

"It's not a good or a bad trait," Johnny says. He walks back into the living room. He looks so big and gangly like this. Taeyong wants to push his bangs out of his eyes. "We're just two extremes. Neither is probably super healthy."

He hands the Pikachu mug back to Taeyong and clinks their cups together.

"It's just dumb." The hot chocolate is just as good the second time. "Even if a great person is interested in me and does all of the right things and is exactly the right kind of person, I'm just an emotional lump." Taeyong runs his hand over his face. "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing." Johnny bites his lips, eyes far away. "Is this...do I need to tell Sehun to back off?"

The mention of Sehun's name jolts Taeyong's brain, and he remembers that he's here because of Sehun, because Sehun is Johnny's roommate, and they're friends. "I'm so sorry." His face must be so red. He's so fucking dumb. "I don't...I forgot you were friends. I'm sorry, that's so awkward."

Johnny makes a face. "You forgot we were friends...in his house?"

Taeyong collapses back on the bed. "Just kill me."

Even as he throws his arms over his face, Johnny just laughs. "I really will tell him to back off if you want."

"It's fine." Taeyong curls up on his side. He's pouting now. He wants to get under the blankets and die. "I like Sehun; he's nice. He hasn't done anything wrong."

"But if you're not interested then that's like, awkward for you?" Johnny frowns. "Or are you just—"

"I'd like to be interested," Taeyong says, looking at a stain on the couch pillow, picking at the pills in the sheets. "I just don't know how."

It's quiet for too long of a moment.

Taeyong looks up at Johnny and his eyes are far away again.

"Maybe it's just...not Sehun," Johnny says eventually.

"It's not anyone else, either." Taeyong hugs the stained pillow to his chest. "Not ever." It's scary to think about, and lonely. Taeyong hates feeling lonely.

Johnny is humming again. It's a nice sound, an absent thought. He might not even realize he's doing it. Taeyong is endeared. "You can't force it."

"Watch me," Taeyong says, deadpan, but he breaks into a laugh too quickly, and he ends up whining into the pillow. "It'd be so _easy_." It wouldn't be easy; maybe just easier.

"If you want to force it, at least do it with someone you're like..." Johnny pauses. "Well, I guess that's kind of the issue. There's not a single person you're attracted to?"

"I didn't say that," Taeyong says, sitting back up. He smooths the tassels on the pillow day, setting it in his lap. "It's just compartmentalized differently."

Taeyong is attracted to Sehun; or rather, he knows Sehun is attractive. He'd had fun when they hooked up. There's a professor that Taeyong thinks is nice to look at, and plenty of Taeyong's friends meet all of his aesthetic standards.

The issue is when he thinks about dating them, holding them, being held, his brain shuts the door.

Johnny is looking at him, a strange tension in his mouth. "If I asked to kiss you right now, how would you feel?"

Taeyong blinks. "Pardon?"

"Don't even think about the fact that it's me," Johnny continues, without shame. "Just like, if someone wanted to kiss you."

Except Taeyong can't not think about the fact that Johnny just hypothetically asked to kiss him and how he would feel about that and the answer is: very confused.

It's not horrible. Taeyong has kissed people before. He likes kissing; it's the pressure of the attached strings that make him panic. The thought that someone expects more of him, the wandering hands even when his brain tells him _no, not ready, not now._ Would Johnny be like that?

"I'd be confused," Taeyong says. "Why would you want to kiss me in the first place?"

Johnny holds one hand up placatingly. "Not me, specifically! Just someone. Sehun maybe, if that's—"

"Not Sehun." Taeyong doesn't want to kiss Sehun.

"Okay." Johnny bites his lip again. "But you're open to it? That's a start."

"Maybe." Taeyong's hot chocolate is in danger of growing cold again, so he picks it up with both hands and plops it back down on his lap atop the pillow. His brain has completely halted, and that usually means a conversation is over. He looks awkwardly at the television. _Are you still watching?_ "Do you want to keep watching your drama?"

Johnny smiles with his whole face and it's dumb. "Yeah," he says. Dropped, easy. "Let's watch."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong opens his eyes, swollen shut with sleep, and realizes two things: 1) his still didn't finish his hot chocolate and 2) he fell asleep on top of Johnny Seo.

 _Are you still watching?_ is plastered over the television, and Taeyong doesn't have any idea how long they stayed up watching stupid dramas, but his brain panics. What time is it? Did he miss any classes?

There's an entirely separate kind of panic when he realizes that he's holding onto Johnny like a leech. His arms are looping around Johnny's waist, and Johnny himself is propped up against the back of the couch where he presumably fell asleep. He's awake. Taeyong knows he's awake before he has the courage to look up because Johnny's hand is rubbing absent circles into Taeyong's back.

Johnny is on his phone, Taeyong can see it out the corner of his eyes, but he sets it down when he feels Taeyong tense. "Good morning," he says. He holds Taeyong a little tighter, kind of a hug, and then immediately moves his arms away. "You fell asleep after like, an episode and a half."

Taeyong squints at him through the sleep and panic. "Wh..time...?"

"It's like...almost noon?" Johnny says, checking his phone. 11:37. Johnny's lock screen is a cat in a top hat. "I thought you might have classes but I texted Ten and he said your first one was at one."

Taeyong takes a moment to be touched at the thoughtfulness before his brain freaks out. "Ten's going to give me shit," he groans. He's still too close to Johnny but Johnny doesn't seem to care and it makes it easy to forget to panic. Taeyong rolls back a little further on the couch, just to put some distance between them, and Johnny doesn't seem to mind that either. "Sorry."

"What for?" Freed from his restraints [read: Taeyong] Johnny takes himself and his stupid slippers off the couch and into the kitchen.

If Taeyong were to make a list, it'd be too long. His mouth taste bad but his head is surprisingly clear. "Being weird," Taeyong answers simply.

Johnny just laughs. "I should introduce you to my friends." His hair sticks up funny and his glasses have been discarded sometime in the night. There's an ugly red indent on his nose. "Cuddling at night is the least of their transgressions."

There's other stuff Taeyong feels sorry for, but if Johnny feels like glossing over it then Taeyong won't push it.

"Do you want coffee before you head out?" Johnny asks. He's already in the process of making himself a pot. Taeyong wonders how long Johnny's been awake; he's too alert to have just woken up. "Do you have time?"

"I have a little bit of time," Taeyong says, and he's not sure why. He'd like to go back to the dorm and change his clothes, feel a little more like himself, but the prospect of staying here a little longer isn't a bad one.

He checks his phone against his better judgement. Ten has sent him a lecherous series of emojis, likely in response to Johnny contacting him that morning but that might just be how he's feeling today. Taeyong's aunt asked about his visit with Mark earlier in the week.

 _How was last night? Did Johnny treat you like a king? Lmao_ Sehun had sent sometime in the morning before Taeyong had woken up. It stirs something weird in his chest.

A clean mug is held in front of Taeyong's face and it pulls him out of his own head. "Stop thinking so hard," Johnny tells him. He's already made himself a cup, and the difference between Johnny's and Taeyong's is funny. Johnny seems to have pegged Taeyong's sweet tooth; his coffee looks like more cream than anything, but Taeyong likes it that way. "It's too early."

Taeyong frowns. "It's noon." He takes the cup delicately from Johnny, making sure their fingers don't brush. Very careful.

"I feel like this is early for you," Johnny says, laughing. "No need to be a human until mid-evening."

"I'll drink to that." Taeyong raises his cup in toast.

 _It was good! Only kind of awkward hahaha_ Taeyong replies to Sehun when he feels settled in his post-sleep brain. _More my fault than his, I'm sure._

Sometimes between then and gathering up the few belongings Taeyong has left around the house, Taeyong's brain wanders past his one o' clock and makes a huge detour. _If I asked to kiss you right now, how would you feel?_

It hits different in the daylight.

Taeyong takes a deep breath so he doesn't freeze in the middle of stuffing his folded clothes back in his bag. Continues mechanically packing up his things. He has more important things to think about than weird shit people say late at night.

But if Johnny did kiss him, would Taeyong like it? Taeyong had liked it when Sehun kissed him, at first, even if it wasn't the same way he sees in movies or reads in books. Maybe Taeyong just gets bored with people. But he knows Johnny better than he'd know Sehun then, and maybe that makes a difference.

And there's nothing Johnny has done that's made that small, feral part of Taeyong's heart panic and run.

"Do you want some cereal or something?" Johnny asks from upstairs. He left not ten minutes ago to get ready for his day, and when he comes back downstairs the glasses are gone (sad) and so are the slippers. He looks more like the distant, cute boy in Taeyong's lecture than the one who'd given him a place to sleep the night before, but Taeyong supposes those people aren't mutually exclusive. "I'm not a great cook but we have stuff for an omelette?"

"I should really get going, actually." Taeyong zips up his bag and swings it over his shoulder. He's still wearing the clothes he slept in. He wants to change and wash his face and pretend like he's a fresh human before he heads to class.

He doesn't move, though — he just kind of stands there staring at Johnny like an idiot.

"Okay." Johnny continues his way down the stairs and set about pouring himself a second cup of coffee. "I'm glad I could help you out. I remember sharing a room — I mean, living with Sehun isn't that much better." He laughs. "But uh, yeah. Sucks."

"Yeah." Taeyong's hands are fisting in the hem of his shirt, and he makes himself let go before the material gets damp and wrinkled. It's a conscious effort, like so much has been recently.

Maybe Taeyong shouldn't force it. Maybe Johnny is right.

But Taeyong feels like he's standing still.

"If I asked you to kiss me, would you?" Taeyong asks, and Johnny spins around so fast in the middle of taking a drink that half his coffee spills down the front of his shirt.

"Fuck," Johnny hisses, setting the mug down on the counter and holding his shirt out away from his body with his free hand. The shirt is black so it shouldn't stain, but Taeyong still drops his bag and surges forward to help clean up the mess.

"Sorry," Taeyong whispers, small and embarrassed, hands shaking as he pulls paper towels off the counter. "I'm so sorry."

"No, it's fine, you just—" Johnny barks out a laugh, and it's the most nervous Johnny has sounded in all the conversations they've had. "You just surprised me again."

"I should stop that," Taeyong admits. He blots at Johnny's t-shirt until the paper towels come back brown and smelling of coffee, and then he crinkles it up in his fist because he can't figure out what to do with his hands.

Johnny hums. "You don't have to."

Taeyong looks anywhere but at him. "I'll just..." He points at the door.

"It's really okay," Johnny says pointedly. He's still holding his wet t-shirt out, but he's looking at Taeyong very closely. Taeyong can feel it, even if he's still staring at the floor. "I don't mind."

Taeyong covers his face with his free hand.

"I would kiss you if you explained to me why," Johnny continues, after a heart beat.

One of Johnny's heart beats, because Taeyong's heart is beating rapidly, at least three times as fast. He peaks out at Johnny through his fingers with a sigh. "I just...I'm tired of feeling like I'm broken."

Something flickers on Johnny's face. "That's not a good reason."

Taeyong swallows. The paper towel is cold and soggy in his hand. "It's all I have."

Johnny looks at Taeyong, really looks, and when Taeyong chances a glance at him the look is almost fond. Incredulous, maybe, but Taeyong doesn't quite believe himself either. But there's a slow, tentative second when Johnny seems to make a decision, reaching up one hand to cup Taeyong's chin. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Taeyong says, even as his chest feels like it's going to collapse in on itself. He closes his eyes, tight.

There's a moment that hangs. Taeyong waits.

Lips press against the worry lines on Taeyong's forehead, and Taeyong releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His eyes flutter open, confused.

Johnny is giving him a measured smile. "Ask me again when you're actually sure," he says. The hand on Taeyong's chin taps gently and then it's gone. "Come on. I'll walk you to your car."

Taeyong is left in the lurch, but his brain stumbles over itself to catch up. Johnny is already picking up his coffee again and moving to the living room. Taeyong watches blankly while Johnny picks Taeyong's bag up off the floor and gestures towards the front door. "Come on," Johnny says. "Don't you have a class to get to?"

"Ah...yes." Taeyong throws the gross paper towels in the trash can and dashes out after Johnny, trying to figure out if his stomach is full of lead or butterflies.

The sun is bright, and the stain on Johnny's shirt looks darker in the light, but Johnny doesn't seem to mind anything. Not the wet shirt, not the weird moment Taeyong forced on the both of them, not the fact that Taeyong has no idea what he's doing as he follows Johnny into the drive way.

"I can get it," Taeyong says, pulling at the strap of his bag, but Johnny just lifts the entire thing over his head like an asshole. "That's mean!"

"Me? Mean?" Johnny looks appalled. "Never."

When Taeyong had shown up the night before, Johnny being so at ease had felt out of place, but now Taeyong is grateful for it. His heart is still shooting off rapid-fire, and both of them being off balance wouldn't be manageable. Robotically, he opens his car, click click, and watches Johnny place his bag in the back seat.

"There we go," he says, like he's tucking in a small child, and Taeyong can't stop himself from smiling.

"I'm..." Taeyong twirls his lanyard around and around in his hands. "I'm really sorry." Just in case Johnny doesn't know.

Johnny, in fact, does not know. He frowns, almost cartoonish. "For what?"

"For..." Taeyong blinks. "I don't know."

"You apologize for a lot of things and you don't ever seem to know why," Johnny says, but it's easy. He laughs. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Still." It's weak.

"Just thank me instead," Johnny says, cheeky. "I did give you a bed."

Taeyong laughs. A full laugh, more than the comment calls for, but he'll blame it on relief. "Thank you." He scratches his neck awkwardly. "I'm really grateful."

Johnny opens up the driver's side door. "I know."

Taeyong climbs in, settles his hands on the steering wheel, like he needs the moment to gather his thoughts. There's steps to this, ones Taeyong knows well: 1) put the key in the ignition, 2) start the car, and 3) drive away. A ritual he can find comfort in, because he doesn't know what the fuck is up with anything else he's doing.

Johnny doesn't shut the door. "I'll see you on Tuesday?"

"Sure." Taeyong buckles his seatbelt and unwraps his lanyard from his wrist so he can move forward. "See you on Tuesday."

Johnny closes the door for him, and when Taeyong pulls out of the driveway he thinks his stomach feels too light to be full of lead.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm super like. shocked. and pleased at how kind everyone has been! 100 kudos!!! That's so many! I'm so happy!  
> A lot of people have related a lot to Taeyong - wow same. I hope this is a good journey for all of us!


	3. Chapter 3

Taeyong doesn't really remember the drive back to campus — he's still half asleep and slightly fluttery, and the coffee hadn't done much to clear his head. The universe seems to want him muddled and confused at all times.

He wants to change his clothes and wash his face and gather himself for his class. He wants to stop thinking about Johnny kissing him on the forehead because it's pointless and small, even if it feels like it's big. Taeyong tends to make everything big, mountains out of molehills, but he can't stop himself from absently touching the space between his eyebrows, worry lines back in full force. Stupid. Johnny really is stupid.

So is Taeyong.

He swipes his ID at the front of his dorm and skitters to the stairwell, desperate to change his clothes and put his head back on. He'd like to give Ten a piece of his mind for abandoning him to the charity of others, but Ten's classes start at 11 on Fridays, and he's either long gone or very late.

There is someone in their dorm room, though, which wasn't something Taeyong had emotionally prepared himself for.

"Hello!" someone says, half-naked on the couch. Or rather, Taeyong hopes he's only half-naked. His chest is bare and there's a blanket thrown over his hips, but his bare ass could be on the couch and Taeyong would be none the wiser. Lord knows how many asses have been on the couch over the past two years. Taeyong certainly doesn't want to give it a number. "Are you Taehyung?"

"Taeyong," Taeyong answers, mildly hesitant, but he feels his face settle into a carefully neutral expression. He doesn't want to deal with this right now, nor does he particularly want to be uncomfortable for yet another reason. "And you're...?"

The stranger sits up, and if there was any doubt that this was Ten's hookup from the night before, it's crushed once Taeyong gets a good look at his neck. That's Ten's handy-work, the vampire. "Lucas." For what it's worth, Lucas is in good humor, grinning at Taeyong like he isn't crashing on a couch that isn't his. "Ten had to go to class, but mine doesn't start until one, so he said I could stay."

"I don't think that was Ten's decision," Taeyong says carefully. The least Ten could have done was shoot him a text, since he knew Taeyong was coming home. It's unlike Ten not to at least let Taeyong know. Between this and last night, it's starting to niggle.

Lucas's entire face falls. It's almost funny, how dramatic the change is. "Aw, shit, man. Sorry. I can leave if you want! I don't want to get in your way." He starts swinging his legs over the couch, and it's clear that no, he wasn't half-naked, but if Lucas is going to be shameless about it than Taeyong doesn't really care.

"It's okay." Taeyong sets his bag down on his neatly made bed — either they fucked on the couch or Ten already changed the sheets — and runs a hand through his hair. "Some warning would have been nice, is all."

"Yeah, man, I get it." Lucas talks with his hands; Taeyong can sense the movement even with his back turned. He's a big guy, taller and broader than either Taeyong or Ten — exactly Ten's type. "Sucks. I thought Ten would have told you."

"He didn't." Taeyong pulls out his phone and shoots off a message — _Would have liked to know we had company :/_ — and doesn't bother waiting for a response. "You can stay, I don't care." Taeyong has so many other things swimming around in his head. "I have class soon too, so it's not a big deal."

Lucas stands up and stretches, and doesn't even have the thought to be embarrassed as he thunders around the room looking for his underwear. He's big and noisy, just his aura, and it's a lot different than Taeyong is used to. Even Johnny is big and gentle; Lucas just seems loud. "Next time I'll make Ten text you! Communication is important, you know?"

Next time. "Are you and Ten a thing?" Taeyong asks. He thinks about the guy Ten was hung up on, the one from the party — is that Lucas? If it is, Taeyong is predisposed to like him at least a little, if only because it takes a special person to catch Ten's interest beyond a linger.

"Nah." Lucas pulls his t-shirt over his head. It smells a bit, even from across the room, and Taeyong holds back a shudder at the thought of going to class in yesterday's clothes. "Just friends. But like..." Lucas's eyes look far away. "Wow."

Taeyong has heard enough of Ten's sexual endeavors that he doesn't need to ask the question. "I'm glad you had a good time." He doesn't want to say there won't be a next time, more likely, but the consideration on Lucas's part is a nice surprise. Even if Lucas isn't the one from the party, even if he's big and noisy, there's something inherently charming about him.

"Yeah." The t-shirt is slightly too small. Taeyong wonders if it's Ten's for a moment before throwing the idea out. If it were Ten's, it'd be way more than slightly too small. Now that Lucas is standing and Taeyong has to tilt his chin up to look him in the eye, he's really kind of statuesque — tall and beautiful in a friendly, open kind of way. Like a really pretty puppy. He looks young. "Damn, man, I really did."

Taeyong is a bit jealous of the way someone like Lucas shines so brightly.

It's better to ignore feelings like that, especially when Taeyong logically knows that most of their differences are in his own head, and Taeyong doesn't even particularly care about drawing people in. The more people drawn to him is more strangers to handle, and that's never been his strong suit. There's nothing to be jealous of.

He leaves Lucas alone and bustles about the room, getting himself ready. His notes are carefully organized in the desk drawer, and he switches out his Thursday binder for his Monday/Wednesday/Friday binder, shoving the monstrosity into his backpack before pulling fresh clothes from his dresser.

By the time 12:30 hits, Taeyong feels like a new man: clean, organized, only mildly anxious.

Lucas still hasn't left, but Taeyong isn't above ushering him out of their room when the time comes.

He's about to say something actually, mouth opened to invite Lucas to leave with him, but Lucas talks before he has the chance. "Are you the one that's dating Sehun, the senior?"

Taeyong's blood turns to ice. "No," he says, and the frost bleeds into his voice.

Lucas doesn't seem to notice it. Either that, or he doesn't particularly care. "Oh, cool." He's texting someone, only giving Taeyong half of his attention. "Someone just mentioned a Taeyong, so I assumed. Sorry, man."

It's a ridiculous reaction, Taeyong thinks, the way that his brain is so horrified. There's nothing wrong with Sehun. Anyone would be lucky to date Sehun. It's a rumor, not the end of the world. Taeyong can rationalize it as much as he wants; he still feels a bit sick. "Did uh...did Sehun say that?"

For a second, Lucas looks at Taeyong and it's almost calculating. "I don't know Sehun that well," he says after a moment, and he looks young and open and friendly as ever. "It's just something I heard around."

"Oh." Taeyong drums his fingers on his thigh, brain far away.

"It's just a rumor." Lucas grins, and he claps Taeyong on the shoulder so firmly Taeyong's bones rattle from the impact. "You know music students are gossips. It's harmless."

Taeyong wishes that were comforting.

"I should go." Lucas stretches, taking up more space than Taeyong thought was possible, and then he opens the door and walks out into the hallway. The bite marks on his neck show past the collar of his shirt, and they look vicious even in the dim light of the dorm, but he doesn't seem to mind. "I'll see you around?"

"Sure." Taeyong doesn't really think he will.

 

* * *

 

Ten calls Taeyong in the short time between classes, when his class is finished and Taeyong is walking to Econ. "I'm sorry about Lucas! I wasn't thinking!" Ten starts talking rapidly instead of saying hello, and that at least lets Taeyong know he feels guilty about it.

"At any point between last night when you invited him over and like...an hour ago when you said he could stay?" Taeyong asks.

"Literally not a single time. I've never had a thought in my entire life." Ten sounds frantic. "I'm so sorry, I feel like shit. I should have let you know."

The courtyard is mostly empty, but Taeyong knows that any moment now students will come streaming out of their classes. He appreciates the lack of chaos while he can. "You should have," he says quietly. To say he's angry would be an oversimplification — mostly he's just confused. "It's not like you to leave me in the dust like that."

It's quiet on the other end of the line, just for a second, before Ten remembers he's working with a time limit. "I've been..." He huffs. "I've been frustrated recently, and I've channeled that into being selfish."

"I wouldn't go that far." Ten has certainly been distracted, a little more all over the place, but not too far out of the norm that Taeyong has really noticed. And this really is unlike him; the years they've lived together without this happening is a testament to how much he thinks about Taeyong. "You're just usually so good about letting me know. I'm worried."

"You weren't angry?" Incredulous.

"I..."

Ten laughs. "You can say that you were."

"I was." Taeyong laughs, too. "And I wasn't happy when Lucas was still there alone this morning."

"Yeah. That was dumb." Ten is uncharacteristically quiet. "I guess I just..."

"You don't have to explain it to me," Taeyong tells him. "If you're sorry than like..." _That's enough._

"Thanks." Ten hums under his breath. The clock is ticking, and Taeyong pushes into his Econ classroom knowing that this call will have to end within the next couple minutes. "There's a lot on my mind."

"Same hat." Taeyong laughs, hiding it behind his hand.

A thoughtful noise. "We should get dinner tonight." Ten clicks his tongue. It’s a conscious shift into safer territory. "I wanna hear all about staying over with _Sehun_."

"Oh." It's not exactly the right thing for Ten to say, not exactly safe, especially without the time for Taeyong to correct him. Taeyong's chest tightens uncomfortably. "Sehun wasn't actually there. It was just me and Johnny."

"Oh?" An echo. Something wicked. "Then I definitely want to hear about it."

The conversation ends with laughter, which is as much as Taeyong can hope for, after a weird night and a tense morning.

Econ starts and Taeyong pushes all thoughts of Ten to the side in favor of paper money and statistics.

 

* * *

 

"I haven't seen you in so long," is what Taeyong's mother says when he calls her on Friday night, which means that she wants him to come home for the weekend, which means that his dinner with Ten gets pushed back. It's worth it though, Ten tells him, because Taeyong always brings back leftovers.

It's a bit of a drive, especially when he's making it pretty late, but it's not like Taeyong sleeps well anyway. He inherited it from his mother, who assures him she'll be awake when he gets there past midnight. Taeyong bags up his laundry and turns on Spotify and drowns his thoughts out all the way home. He stops an hour and a half in for gas station coffee and sour peaches. The highway is empty, even on a Friday night.

Taeyong craves time alone but it isn't good for him; he just thinks about things he shouldn't.

The coffee reminds him of Johnny, and he only thinks about Johnny for 0.3 seconds before turning on Shakira and pretending that Johnny doesn't exist. In some ways, it's easy, because Johnny exists at university, and this is something separate. The only thing that exists here is Taeyong and his old clunker and the beat up street signs that lead him home.

No need to think about the embarrassment he made of himself in the late morning.

Asking Johnny to kiss him...he's so foolish. The thought makes him grip to the steering wheel too tightly. Taeyong takes an aggressive sip of his coffee.

Johnny didn't kiss him, anyway, so no harm no foul. Except the fact that Johnny not kissing him is irritating in a way that Taeyong can't quite name.

He weighs his annoyances — what bothers him more? The fact that the campus likely thinks he's dating Sehun, or the fact that he acted like an idiot in front of Johnny? He thinks they might be different feelings altogether, because comparing them leaves him feeling horribly off-balance.

Two hours into his drive, Taeyong's coffee is finished and he thinks that nothing bothers him quite so much as not understanding how he's feeling.

The porch lights are on when he pulls into the driveway of his family house, the only warmth on an otherwise dead street, and by the time he shuts off his engine and hauls his laundry out of the backseat his mother is waiting for him at the open door. "My big dumb baby," she says, so fond, and Taeyong is exhausted and happy.

She pulls him inside by the elbow, and Taeyong takes a short moment to drop the dirty clothes in the laundry room before his mother pulls him tightly into her chest. He's much taller than she is, although that isn't a high bar, and she buries her face in chest. "Oh, honey. I missed you."

"It's only been a few weeks," he says, laughing, but he's holding on just as tight. Three weeks is a long time.

Taeyong hasn't slept so well in days as he does in his childhood home, knowing that his mother loves him and nothing else matters, at least not for the moment.

 

* * *

 

Maybe being home is just what Taeyong needs. In the morning his mother has prepared a late breakfast, and by the time Taeyong pulls himself out of bed it's ready at the kitchen table. His mom is sitting at her desk, clicking through Facebook, glasses on top of her head. She smiles when he walks in. "Morning, sleepyhead."

Taeyong grunts in response and collapses into the kitchen chair.

"So nice to have you back." It's sarcastic, but Taeyong know she means it. He grins at her as he bites into his toast.

Some things never change. They sit quietly in the morning, letting the sun settle a little more in each other's company, and Taeyong's mom complains about old ladies in her church choir and the shit they post on Facebook. "I should just mute her, right?" she mutters.

"Definitely," Taeyong says, even though he has no idea who she's talking about, but it seems to be the push his mother needs. He steeps a cup of tea and prepares to drown himself in eggs and maple syrup.

"How is school?" she asks idly, clicking her mouse aggressively.

"It's fine," he says. "Not really great but not too bad, either." He misses dancing, if he's being honest with himself, but he likes his major. He just wishes he were better at balancing everything. "There's been some, like, weird stuff?"

His mother looks at him critically. "What kind of weird stuff?" Taeyong can tell she's not too concerned because she’s still liking pictures of her coworkers holiday trip, but no matter how much she trusts him she's still his mom.

Taeyong stirs more sugar into his tea. "I don't know. Ilhoon has been weird." That continues to be true, even if Taeyong appreciates the pains Ilhoon has been making to get back in his good graces. He's talking more in the group chat, much more than normal, and has been especially soft with Taeyong recently. It's still weird, another extreme, but Taeyong won't say he prefers the other end of things. "And there's...a boy."

It's the first time that sentence has left Taeyong's mouth. there's a glint in his mother's eyes, her hands freezing on the keyboard, but he sees her shake herself out of hope and looks at him neutrally. "A boy?"

"Yeah." Taeyong swallows. "But it's..."

"Weird," she finishes for him. She's smiling, soft, measured, understanding.

"I feel like I'm leading him on even if I'm being straight-forward," Taeyong admits. "But I'm also not sure I like...know how I should be feeling? What if I feel the way I'm supposed to feel but I'm just ignorant? And it's not as amazing as everyone says it is?"

His mother turns in her desk chair to face him, elbow over the back. She looks so familiar, hair up and coffee mug in hand, dark circles and wrinkles that have grown over time, but she's a comfort. Looking at her is a comfort. "I'm old," she says frankly, mouth quirked in a smile. "I have a lot of experience, and I can help you with a lot of things."

"I know." Taeyong stabs at his eggs, mulish.

"But I have no experience being you." She laughs. "So I can't tell you how you're feeling, or how you're supposed to feel. But you've always been a good boy, Yongie. And a smart boy."

Taeyong sighs.

"Don't huff at me," she chastises, still laughing. "You need to trust yourself more."

"Boys are complicated," he whines, slumping in his chair.

"It's not just boys. I think it's just humans in general." Taeyong's mom gets up out of her chair. "Do you want more toast?"

 

* * *

 

It takes about an hour to catch his mother up on his life because it's boring and also he refuses to talk about Johnny nor Ten's sexual escapades, which are the only other interesting things happening in his life. Quite frankly, Taeyong doesn't want to think about Johnny at all, because Johnny just dregs up embarrassment from the abyss Taeyong cast it into. He still does think about him, because he hates himself and he's weak, but he doesn't need to bring it up in casual conversation.

Not wanting to talk about Ten's hookups with his mother should be somewhat self-explanatory.

Still, once his mom feels appropriately caught up on loving her son, it's inevitably time for chores.

"I need more vanilla, and we ran out of rice last night," she's telling him, handing him a list composed of more than just vanilla and rice. "And we need beef for dinner. Oh! You should take Mark with you. He needs to get out of the house."

Taeyong doesn't think either or them are being given a choice, so he stops by his aunt's house and picks up a confused Mark before driving them both to Walmart.

"I didn't even know you were in town?" Mark says, once he's recovered from the shock of being thrown out of the house by his own mother.

"It was a last minute thing," Taeyong says with a laugh. Mark's hair is all over the place, and Taeyong knows he's an early riser but it's likely he's been holed up in his room since he woke up. Some sunshine probably would do him some good. "I'm surprised you didn't already have plans."

"Donghyuck has a chorale thing this weekend two towns over," Mark says idly, looking out the window. "I went to one last week, but I have more essays to write than I know what to do with it."

Taeyong purses his lips, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. "I thought that you finished that shit a while ago?" Mark still hasn't made a decision as far as Taeyong knows, but he also wasn't aware any new schools had peaked Mark's interest.

Mark grimaces. "I wish. One of my teacher's dropped this program in my lap, basically, and I'd be dumb not to apply, but the process is...mind-numbing."

"I don't miss those days," Taeyong says with a laugh, pulling into the parking lot. "At least you'll be able to help Donghyuck with it next year."

"Yeah." Mark's voice is small. He watches Taeyong turn of the car, unmoving, and only remembers he isn't a statue after Taeyong has already opened his own door and stepped out onto the asphalt. He hurries to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Any uh, any news on the cute boy?"

It takes Taeyong a moment to play catch up. "Oh." He grimaces. "Let's not talk about the cute boy."

Mark's eyes twinkle; it's as close as he ever gets to looking mischievous. "Trouble in paradise?" he laugh, full-bodied, even as Taeyong pushes him violently into the middle of the aisle.

"There's no trouble! There's no _anything_." Taeyong continues pushing Mark towards the carts until the younger boy gets the message to do the dirty work.

"Oh, I see," Mark says, once he comes back, rolling in on his shopping cart. "So that's the issue."

"No," Taeyong insists, petulant. "It's just embarrassing."

It seems like too much to tell Mark about his crippling fears of being incapable of love, and it seems beside the point to explain their awkward sleepover, but Mark's looking at him expectantly, so Taeyong figures he needs to give him something. "I asked him to kiss me and he didn't. So."

Mark is a good kid, almost unbelievably good, so Taeyong isn't too offended when Mark laughs so hard he cries — at least he knows it isn't malicious. "I'm...I'm so sorry," his cousin says once he's collected himself, covering his mouth with his hand. "I'm sorry. I was just...surprised."

"Mhmm." Taeyong looks at him flatly. "Keep laughing. I have so much dirt on you and Donghyuck will love literally all of it."

"Okay okay." Mark holds up a hand in surrender, but there are still tears in his eyes. "You're just...not that type of person. It caught me off guard."

Taeyong gets it. He's really not that type of person, hence the issue. "There was context." He's aware he's pouting. "Admittedly, even the context is like, kind of weird. But it's fine." He slaps a hand over his eyes. Taeyong really can't believe he did that — mentioning it out loud for the first time is really driving that home. He hasn't even mentioned it to Ten, in the midst of their tiff.

"Not to be nosy but like, what did he _do?_ " Mark asks, driving them towards the produce section. Taeyong pretends not to notice that watermelon is decidedly not on his mother's grocery list, even as Mark puts one into their cart. "Did he laugh? Or freak out?"

"No," Taeyong says, after a moment. "I actually..." Pause. "I think he probably would have, actually."

Mark looks at Taeyong, incredulous. "Were you drunk?"

Taeyong laughs. "I wish." Not drunk, just sad. "He said to...ask again later."

Mark looks much more shocked than necessary, but he's always been an over-reactor. "Oh my god," he says. "Do you think he likes you?"

"No." Taeyong frowns. "It wasn't that kind of situation." He swallows. "Just because he might have been willing to kiss me doesn't mean anything."

"Were you willing to kiss him?"

To be fair, that's a bigger revelation. "I...maybe." He'd entertained the idea, which is more than usual. "But it wasn't going to...mean anything, you know? Casual kissing between friends."

Mark makes a face. "I wouldn't want to kiss any of my friends," he says.

"You're literally dating your best friend."

"Yeah, but I like Donghyuck." Mark laughs. "Like, I don't like Jeno, or Renjun, and the idea of kissing them is gross."

"It probably depends on the person," Taeyong says after a moment.

"What about...what's his name?"

"Sehun?"

"Who?"

Taeyong thinks it probably says a lot that Mark doesn't even recognize that name. He laughs, trying to think of his other friends. "Uhm...Ilhoon?"

"Yeah, Ilhoon. Or...I was thinking of your roommate." Mark is squinting at the list in his hands and trying to figure out where the eggs are. Taeyong will let him be a big boy and figure it out on his own, even if they're in the wrong aisle.

"Oh. Ten."

"Yeah. Would you kiss either of them?"

Taeyong's immediately reaction is a grimace.

Mark shrugs. "There's my point."

"I don't like Johnny," Taeyong says, because he knows that much. "And even if he implied he was willing—"

"All I'm saying," Mark interrupts, dropping a bag of rice into their cart, "is that maybe Johnny wouldn't kiss his friends, either."

It's a good point, not that Taeyong would ever admit it. "Well." He swallows. "We didn't kiss."

"Then maybe you're friends?" Mark looks confused. "I don't know what my point is."

"If you stop talking about it I'll buy that watermelon instead of making you put it back," Taeyong says, plucking the list out of Mark's hands.

Mark seems relieved. "Deal."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong listens to Night Night on his way home Sunday.

The show is held on Mondays and Fridays, but they're recorded and archived on the school's main page, and Taeyong doesn't have anything better to do on the drive back. There's a bag full of leftovers sitting in a cooler on Taeyong's passenger seat, as well as a tin of cookies that Taeyong helped bake that morning; he figures he'll give them to Ten, proof of his forgiveness.

He debates listening to the show for about twenty minutes before he finally decides to put it on. Jaehyun, the cohost, has a calming personality, and the Johnny on the radio is still somewhat removed from the Johnny of Friday morning. Nothing quite outweighs how much Taeyong hates driving, or how bored he is.

If nothing else, it's background noise, drowning out the hollow drum of wheels on the highway. That's what Taeyong tells himself when Johnny's voice comes out through the aux.

They have good music taste. Johnny seems to listen to a little bit of everything, and Jaehyun has a healthy appreciate for pop music and a knack for picking out what's actually worth the time. It's nice too, to be brought up to speed on what's happening at school. Taeyong doesn't leave his dorm very often, other than for class, and everything else he finds out from Ten. The news of the dance showcase isn't new information, but the literary magazine is coming out in two weeks and there's a concert on the 14th that Taeyong thinks he might enjoy going to.

Taeyong does think Johnny is a little quiet during this recording. It's not too noticeable — it's possible Jaehyun is just feeling extra chatty but the ratio of Jaehyun to Johnny is much more skewed than the normal 50:50.

Other people also notice.

"Ah..." Johnny is saying softly from Taeyong's speaker. "Hello, Twitter user @youngcalfmonster."

Jaehyun snickers. Whoever they are, they write in often, and Taeyong thinks it might be Doyoung although he isn't sure.

"Sorry if I'm worrying you; I'll try to be more talkative." Johnny laughs. "But yes, I am eating and sleeping enough."

"Are you drinking water?" Jaehyun questions, smile clear in his voice. "I'm sure that will be his next question."

"Who needs water?" Johnny huffs. "Coffee is the only drink for me."

"Unhealthy."

"I'm young, I can afford to live unhealthily a little longer." Johnny laughs again. It sounds a little awkward, a little sweet, but that might just be Johnny. "I will try to focus more. I had an odd morning."

Jaehyun hums, a little too close to the microphone.

"Do you ever find that people surprise you and it just kind of shifts everything like...two inches to the left?" Johnny asks, and it's light-hearted, even if Taeyong's own heart feels like a rock.

"A good surprise, or a bad surprise?" Jaehyun's response is measured. Taeyong wonders if Johnny had mentioned Taeyong to him before, or if maybe something else odd happened to Johnny on Friday morning and Taeyong should just calm down and get over himself.

"I think it was a good surprise?" Johnny is silent for a moment. "Or, it wasn't a bad surprise, at the very least. But I'm also kind of tripping over all of my furniture."

Taeyong fights between feeling proud of himself and throwing himself out the window.

"But you've always liked surprises," Jaehyun mentions.

"Yeah, I do." Johnny says it frankly. "Especially when they're good surprises."

Definitely going to throw himself out of a window.

"Still, no one cares about my morning," Johnny says, and Taeyong thinks they might be wrapping this conversation up, and frankly _thank God_ , because Taeyong doesn't think he can handle it much longer.

But Johnny seems to like having the last word.

"And to that person — you know who you are, if you're listening — I hope you continue to surprise me."

 

* * *

 

The drive back to campus usually takes 2 hours and 3 minutes. This time, it takes 2 hours and 23 minutes, because Taeyong pulls into a gas station and stares into the void before buying three donuts in an attempt to appease the beating of his heart.

It doesn't work, but the sugar on his fingers distracts him from other sweet things, like thoughts about soft music on the radio and good surprises.

 

* * *

 

"So I hear you're dating Sehun."

"Do you?" Taeyong asks, hand freezing for a moment, fork halfway to his mouth.

Mina is also a little tense, even if her face looks serene. "Who did you hear that from?"

Ilhoon shrugs. "I just heard it around."

It's Monday, the short interim between morning and midday classes, and they three of them have reinstated their short lunch get-togethers after a brief — and mildly awkward — hiatus. But there's not much more any of them can ask of each other, other than to try.

Still, this is dangerous territory. Taeyong takes a moment, biting the tines of his fork gently. "If I was dating Sehun, don't you think you would have heard it from me?"

It's clear that Ilhoon is trying, and there's an easy expression on his face that looks very placed, but Taeyong can appreciate it for what it is. "After I was an asshole about it, I don't know if I would have."

Mina coughs, or laughs, or some combination of both.

"Well." Taeyong supposes there's some truth in that. "We're not dating, so..." Honestly, he hasn't spoken to Sehun since Friday morning, which isn't necessarily odd considering that Taeyong tends to screen messages, but Sehun hasn't really texted him either.

"I just heard it around," Ilhoon says, careful and not-quite-easy, "and I thought I would...you know...it's okay if you are."

Something solid flares in the pit of Taeyong's stomach. "I know." It's too soft to be a declaration, but Taeyong thinks he really does know, and maybe that's more than he had before. "But I'm not."

He pretends not to notice Ilhoon's breath of relief, and Mina starts chattering, and the moment is placed firmly behind them.

 

* * *

 

Tuesday brings its own struggles. 1) Taeyong hasn't seen Ten since Thursday, 2) Taeyong completely forgot about the meeting with his advisor, and 3) Taeyong has to face Johnny for the first time since Friday morning.

The biggest issue is that Ten seems to have vanished off the face of the planet. Taeyong hasn't even had the chance to offer him any leftovers. When he got back to the dorm on Sunday night, Ten had been out with a friend, and on Monday he hadn't come home after classes. They've talked since then, so Taeyong isn't too worried that Ten is avoiding him, but he does get the feeling that Ten is avoid something — he's keeping himself too busy for it to be anything else.

But between the two of them, Ten is much more likely to talk about his problems without needling, and Taeyong appeases his worries by texting his friend every once in a while and making sure he's still alive and not having a breakdown three towns over (which has precedent) and goes about his day. Ten will come back eventually, and they'll talk, and things might not be fine but at least that's one thing Taeyong doesn't have to worry about.

The meeting is another thing that is easily handled — one email and a bit of rescheduling and it's taken care of. Taeyong is lucky his advisor actually is fond of him, or maybe things would be more difficult.

Johnny is the problem that has the least amount of weight, but it's also the focus of Taeyong's hyper-fixation, and there's not much he can do about it.

Taeyong is very purposeful about getting ready in the morning. He barely runs a hand through his hair, throws on a sweater that's borderline ugly and overlarge, and doesn't bother dealing with his puffy face before walking out the door. It's mostly for him, a reassurance that he doesn't care, but it also leaves him feeling subhuman when he walks into the lecture hall and takes his seat.

It's for himself, but when Johnny walks into the hall Taeyong can't stop himself from noticing, even if he keeps his eyes glued to his notebook. The tension in his hand makes his pencil leave indents on his fingers, but there's no way around it as he scribbles nonsense onto his paper. His face feels extra puffy. One of his sleeves it rolled up to the elbow but the other one falls over his hand; he's a big blob. A big, puffy blob. This is what he wanted.

He lightens the pressure on the paper before he rips holes.

Taeyong is so focused on distracting himself from the shadow looming over his head that he doesn't notice the literal shadow until Johnny takes the seat beside him, dropping his backpack on the floor with a clunk and proceeding to arrange his study materials out of the desk.

For a moment, Taeyong just watches him blankly — the last time Johnny sat there it was just for a moment, a brush of fingers against Taeyong's feverish forehead, but this time it seems like Johnny is settling in for the long haul.

Taeyong isn't sure how he feels about it.

Or, rather, he feels kind of like someone is stepping directly on his chest and it's about to collapse, but he's not sure why and also there's nothing he can do about it and _also_ maybe it's just heartburn, except that he's still staring, and he continues staring even when Johnny looks over at him.

"Hello," Johnny says, like him sitting there isn't weird. Technically it isn't. They doesn't have assigned seats, but it's an unspoken rule that there's a seating chart even when there isn't a seating chart, and Johnny's seat is up towards the front and now he's sitting beside Taeyong.

"Hi," Taeyong mumbles, scratching his ear and looking back down at his notebook. There's a little drawing of Mark in the corner, holding a watermelon and a half-aborted sentence — _Friends don't kiss friends._ Taeyong draws a harsh line through the doodle sets his pencil down.

He thinks that's the end of it; Taeyong isn't sure whether he and Johnny are chat-during-lecture friends, or if the email exchange was a bizarre fever dream. He has the marching cats bookmarked, but does that mean they're real or are they just a part of the hallucination that is his friendship with Johnny Seo? Maybe Johnny isn't even real. Maybe Taeyong never lost his mind and asked for kisses like an idiot because Johnny doesn't exist.

"I like your sweater," Johnny says softly, just as the professor walks in. "It's cute."

Taeyong hooks his fingers in the collar and pulls, like maybe that will help him breathe. "Thanks," he says, just as soft but not as easy.

Johnny doesn't say anything else for the rest of lecture, but he doesn't have to; he's distracted Taeyong enough for the hour and then some.

 

* * *

 

Johnny seems determined to set Taeyong off balance as much as physically possible. "Do you wanna go get lunch?" he asks, as soon as the teacher dismisses them. He's wearing that scarf today, the one Taeyong saw hanging up by their front door, which just reminds Taeyong that he spent the night with Johnny once, which makes him panic.

"Uh." This entire relationship is just Taeyong learning that panic can occur in all sorts of new and exciting ways. "I...don't know?"

"You don't know if you can get lunch?" Johnny prompts, casually packing up his laptop like Taeyong's mental breakdown doesn't bother him in the least. Maybe it doesn't — nothing seems to. "You can just say no, if you don't want to, or if you can't. I don't know if you have classes after this or anything."

"I...don't." Taeyong sounds unsure, even to himself, despite the fact that he knows he doesn't have classes after this, and also that he's very capable of going out with Johnny to get lunch. "I don't have classes."

"So...lunch?" Johnny prompts. He's grinning a secret smile that he hides in his scarf. Taeyong is glad he's hiding it — he has the sneaking suspicion it's at his expense, but also it's presence doesn't help Taeyong remember how words work. "You can still say no, even if you don't have classes."

Taeyong isn't sure he wants to say yes, but he knows he doesn't want to say no, so he aims for somewhere in between. "Um...maybe on Thursday?"

"Okay." Johnny accepts it at face value. Taeyong is grateful. "Thursday."

"Thursday." Taeyong slides his notebook into his backpack with intense focus, zips it up, hooks the strap over his shoulder, and when he's done Johnny is still standing there, waiting for him.

They walk out of lecture together, Taeyong small and Johnny easy, and Johnny doesn't try to walk Taeyong back to the dorm, but he waves him goodbye in a way that makes it seem he might want to.

It's not a long walk back to Taeyong's dorm room. The weather is cool, even with his sweater and undershirt, and it feels nice against the warmth on his cheeks. There's plenty to think about, school and Ilhoon and Sehun and Ten and himself, even, but all he can think about is the moment Johnny kissed his forehead and told him to come back when he was sure.

Isn't that the issue? That Taeyong is never sure, and isn't sure he'll ever be anything worth committing to, or someone who can commit in return. He wants to universe to force his hand, make him swallow a love potion because things will be easier.

Does Taeyong want to fall in love because he thinks it's a step towards being human, or does he want to fall in love for the sake of it?

Parts of it sound nice. Parts of it sounds terrifying. Taeyong is stupid and scared, and even if Johnny is a comfortable person in every way, Taeyong isn't. He'll never be, he thinks. So he just has to put one foot in front of the other.

Maybe he'll never be ready.

Ten is there when Taeyong gets back. He has his headphones on, phone in hand and he's dancing in the limited space in their dorm room. It's a funny picture, because it's silent for Taeyong but Ten is too involved to even notice he isn't alone. Ten's feet are bare on the carpet, speckled red with marley burn.

Taeyong does his best to make noise without interrupting; he doesn't want to distract Ten, but he doesn't want to scare him either. It's useless, because Ten looks him in the eye as soon as he puts his bag down, ripping off his headphones and standing up straight, chest heaving. "I have a crush," he says, direct and small.

Taeyong blinks at him. "Okay?" He pauses. "On Lucas?"

Ten makes a face. "Gross. I'm not going to date a freshman."

"You literally had sex with him?" Taeyong argues, laughing incredulously as he sits down on the couch, crossing his legs and settling in. His phone buzzes in his pocket but he figures Ten is worth his focus at the moment. "Don't act like the idea disgusts you."

"I've had sex with a lot of people," Ten defends. "I would date literally...maybe two of them. And neither of those people are freshman."

Two is honestly a higher number than Taeyong had been expecting. "I'm assuming one of them is your...crush?" Taeyong has known Ten for a couple of years now, and it feels like longer. He's never mentioned being interested in anyone.

Ten is still standing there, sweaty and jittery, and he sighs. "No."

Taeyong blinks. "You don't want to date them?"

"I haven't slept with him," Ten corrects.

Despite himself, Taeyong laughs. "Are you going about things in the traditional order for once?" It's not particularly funny, but Ten's always been quick to dive in and quicker to leave, but maybe crushes are always supposed to be the exception.

"No," Ten says, pouting. He slumps down next to Taeyong on the couch, and it only bothers Taeyong a little bit when his sweaty skin rubs against his shirt. "I _would_ have sex with him, but he's being really stubborn about it."

"Who knew all it took to get your interest was playing hard to get?" Taeyong teases, poking Ten in the stomach.

"Don't," Ten whines, and there's a thread of hurt in it underneath the good nature. "I was gonna fuck him at the party, but he doesn't want to. And that's fine, but he doesn't want to not make out either, so we make out. And then he doesn't text me, and then he _does_ text me, and he makes me so fucking _mad_."

"That...doesn't sound like a crush," Taeyong says. "It sounds like he annoys you."

"He does!" Ten throws his arms in the air. "God, he really fucking does? Like, he texts me on Saturday, while you're gone, right?"

"Right," Taeyong prompts, when it's clear Ten is waiting for him to respond.

"He wants to go out, so like, fine, right?"

"Right." Taeyong stifles a laugh, if only because the lines of frustration are clear on Ten's face.

"So I take him out, like the proper thot I am, and we get kind of drunk, and we're making out, and it's so _nice_." Ten sighs, irritated. "He's...really good."<?p>

"Gross," Taeyong adds, mildly.

"But it doesn't go anywhere, like what am I doing wrong?" Ten demands. "He asks me to take him out. I take him out. He flakes."

"But you made out," Taeyong reminds him. "I doubt he would do that if he wasn't interested in _something_."

"I implied all night that I wanted him to take me home and you know what he fucking does?" Ten's eyes are sharp and angry. "He walks me home, and kisses me goodnight."

Taeyong bites his lip. "That sounds...really cute." He doesn't think that's what Ten wants to hear.

The fire dulls. "Maybe." Small. "I just...what do I do?"

"Why are you asking me?" Taeyong asks with a laugh. "You deal with relationships way more than I do, and recently my track records has been abysmal as far as handling things well goes."

Ten pulls at his hair. "I don't know how to deal with gentlemen."

Gentlemen aren't Ten's usual type, but maybe types exist for very specific reasons, and maybe Ten's never wanted someone who will stay. "How do you know it's a crush?" Taeyong really is curious. "How is it any different than the other times you've been interested in someone?"

"Because I go through the day wishing I could see him and it annoys me I don't," Ten says plainly. "Which is annoying, because I feel like I'm being pulled around and he isn't even doing anything." He rubs a hand over his chest, slow and rhythmic. "Even sleeping with someone else was like, not what I wanted. Don't get me wrong, it's fun but it just....doesn't scratch the itch anymore."

Taeyong looks at Ten, and for once he doesn't know what to say. "It's only been a few days, right?"

Ten smiles wryly. "Yeah. I don't know. I'm sure I'll get over it. I just...I never get crushes." He's still rubbing his chest, like it hurts.

Taeyong thinks about that awful, about-to-collapse feeling, and wonders if that's the same thing. "I know," he says, because he does. "Maybe it will go away?"

Ten purses his lips, squinting at the light on the ceiling like it will guide him back to solid ground. "I guess I just have to decide whether I want it to or not."

There's nothing Taeyong relates to more than rocky footing, and he swallows down any advice he might have because there's none he can give. His phone buzzes in his pocket again, and Ten waves in Taeyong's general direction like he's allowing Taeyong to answer.

With a snort, Taeyong pulls his phone out and unlocks it.

He frowns.

**Oh Sehun**

Hey! Are you up for lunch?  
I know you have a free hour so I just thought I would ask~

 

"Sehun?" Ten asks, smiling grimly. "That's your Sehun Face."

"Yeah," Taeyong admits, but there's something off-kilter in his stomach, more so than usual. "He just wanted to know if I wanted to go out for lunch."

"You can go if you want," Ten says. "I don't need to be babied at the moment...maybe tonight we can cuddle."

Taeyong grins. "Deal." He bites his lip. "Do you want to go out for lunch instead? We can still cuddle later. I just don't really want to hang out with anyone right now."

"I'll pretend like you didn't just call me a nobody." Ten hauls himself up off the couch. "You want to go to that deli around the corner? I feel like a giant ball of grease. We can pretend to be healthy."

Taeyong is still grinning when he replies to Sehun.

Ah, sorry! Not today :(  
Thanks for asking though

That's okay :)

 

"I hope you're going to change first," Taeyong tells Ten, watching his roommate put on his shoes. His gray t-shirt is damp with sweat, and he doesn't smell too bad but also it's only a matter of time before he starts complaining about it.

"Okay, _mom,_ " Ten drawls, pointedly taking his shoes back off and pulling the shirt over his head before wandering over to Taeyong's drawers, pulling on something of Taeyong's just to be irritating. Taeyong let's him because if Ten is feeling ornery that means he's feeling okay.

He barely notices when his phone dings again.

**Oh Sehun**

What about on Thursday?

 

Taeyong pauses, reading the text through again, and wonders if he's being paranoid.

Sorry. I already have plans!  
Maybe after? Or on Friday?

 

It takes longer than normal for Sehun to respond. Taeyong watches those three dots at the bottom of the chat for too long before the reply goes through — a simple _It’s a date! I'll text you! ^^_ — and he locks his phone with a hesitant hand.

"You ready?" Ten asks, completely changed, keys and wallet in hand, and Taeyong stands up from the couch in a hurry.

"For you?" he chirps. "Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there was no date but I'm! Working on it!  
> also Someone Please Kiss Johnny Right Now Thanks


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and more in love with Johnny than ever, hello

"So, tell me about your adventures," Ten prompts, taking an overlarge bite of his sandwich. There's sauce on the side of his mouth but Taeyong certainly isn't going to tell him about it.

"I don't have adventures," Taeyong replies instead, a bit primly, but he can't stop the rush of red on his cheeks. "I have cripplingly awkward conversations with near-strangers."

Ten's grin is wicked. "It's all the same to me — you're always fun to laugh at."

Taeyong huffs. "After everything I've done for you." The sauce is really starting to bother him, so he silently pushes Ten a napkin, but his roommate either doesn't notice or doesn't care and Taeyong decides he's done his part. "There's not..." _much to tell,_ but that's a lie. "It's just really awkward."

"I love it." Ten claps his hands once, too loud in the quiet of the deli. "Spill."

"We were just talking," Taeyong says, almost defensive. "And we got into like, some weird territory, and maybe I spilled my emotional guts."

"Oh, God bless." Ten clicks his tongue. "You need that sometimes. You're too in your own head, baby." His eyes narrows. "I'm assuming it was Johnny you were talking to?"

Taeyong nods. Takes a bite of his sandwich and reaches for his water, if only to do something with his hands.

"He really is a nice guy," Ten continues, voice casual, but his expression is pointedly neutral. Taeyong knows that face; it's the one Ten makes when he feels like he has the upper hand and doesn't want to play it yet. "He's easy to talk to, right?"

"Yeah." Taeyong stirs his water with the straw, listening to the clicking of ice cubes on imitation glass. "He really is." Too easy, for someone like Taeyong. It's a little dangerous, a little precious.

Ten watches Taeyong's hands with a held-back smile. "You wouldn't have called a normal conversation 'cripplingly awkward', would you? So what happened?"

Taeyong grimaces. "I asked him to kiss me."

And _oh_ , Ten laughs.

Taeyong supposes that's to be expected — Ten is the worst.

For what it's worth, his initial reaction is obvious shock. His mouth opens slightly, full of half-chewed food, and he gapes for a millisecond, but it's in Ten's nature to be delighted. So he's shocked and then he laughs because, when Taeyong thinks about it, it's really fucking dumb.

This conversation is so reminiscent of his talk with Mark, and those words double back — _I wouldn't want to kiss any of my friends_ — but it's different for Mark. Maybe. Taeyong just wants to prove something to himself.

Still. "He brought it up!" Taeyong shoots, once Ten has started wiping the tears from his eyes. "It wasn't like I just pulled that out of my ass."

It's not the right thing to say, if the glint in Ten's eyes is any indication. "Oh, did he?"

Taeyong scowls. "Don't."

"Come _on_." Whiny. "He's _cute_."

"Lots of boys are cute."

" _I_ know that." Ten sits back in his chair, biting the end of his straw cheekily. "I ask cute boys to kiss me all the time."

Taeyong throws a crumpled napkin at him, and it thumps pathetically off of Ten's chest and into his lap, leaving his roommate unperturbed. "I just...all of this stuff with Sehun and...Ilhoon and everything—"

"Ilhoon?" Ten asks, face neutral again.

Well, Taeyong supposes he never really explained what happened at the party, but Ten is the kind of person who doesn't need to be told things — he's got his fingers in the gossip wheel. "You know about Ilhoon."

"I don't know how you feel about it," Ten tells him, measured.

"Bad." Taeyong laughs. "He apologized though, and he's trying."

"I guess that's worth something." But there's a cruel twist in the corner of Ten's mouth, and Taeyong thinks best friends take a little longer to forgive. "Still, when Mina told me..." He scoffs. "I mean, I knew it would happen eventually, but _still_ —"

"What do you mean?" Taeyong's heart stutters. "I mean sure, he's a little sulky sometimes but...the whole conversation was...unlike him."

Ten blinks at Taeyong, gears turning. "I'm just not surprised your thing with Sehun set him off," he says eventually. "I'm glad he's getting over it."

"Well." Taeyong swallows. "I don't know how much longer Sehun is going to be...a thing."

"You literally said you were going out with him on Friday," Ten points out. "Literally an hour ago."

"I just feel like I should try." Taeyong pulls at his hair. It's getting long. He needs to get it cut. "Like, he's a good guy, and he likes me."

"There are lots of good guys, Taeyong," Ten points out. "If you dated every good guy who liked you your list would be way too long." He laughs. "It doesn't matter if they're good guys if you don't feel anything for them."

"I don't feel anything for anyone."

"Tell me more about _Johnny_ —"

Ten only laughs when Taeyong kicks him in the shin.

 

* * *

 

"I want to get married," Mina had sighed, sometime early in their freshman year. "I hate that I'm that 'ring by spring' girl but like, damn."

"What's the rush?" Ilhoon asked, pretending to study. Taeyong doesn't remember what test he'd been worried over, only the dark circles under his eyes and the gallons of coffee he would drink a day. "We're in our prime."

"It would just be nice," Mina had pouted. She was looking through Instagram, and Taeyong remembers her best friend from high school had just gotten engaged. "Like, I know that it's too early or whatever—"

"It just seems like that's a big decision to make when you're 18," Taeyong said. He was going through Ilhoon's notes, circling things that the other boy might find helpful. "Like...that's your entire life you're giving away."

Ilhoon looked at Taeyong, eyes dark and tired, thoughtful. "I always pegged you for a romantic."

"It's not something that's important to me," Taeyong replied. "I want...I just want to be happy. When being single stops making me happy, maybe that's when it's worth it."

"Love is supposed to be more spontaneous than that." Mina laughed. She doubled tapped her screen and kept scrolling. "It's not like, being happy versus not being happy. It's just being _happier._."

"See?" Taeyong had laughed, too. "Mina can be the romantic."

"It's cute." Ilhoon pinched her cheek, even if it made her scowl every time. "I think I'd like to get married," he added, considering, after a moment. "If it's the right person."

"I don't know." Taeyong hummed. "I want kids, I guess."

"You don't need to be married for that," Mina pointed out, tapping her chin with her phone.

That's true. Taeyong considered it. "I think I'd be happy being alone forever, as long as I had people who were important to me."

"Like _me_ ," Mina had chirped. "And Ilhoon, I guess."

"And Ilhoon." Taeyong rolled his eyes, and Ilhoon had just laughed into his textbook. "Who needs love?"

"Who needs love?" Ilhoon repeated. He had an easy smile on his face. "You might change your mind someday."

"Maybe." Taeyong grinned. "But that doesn't sound like me."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong has a few set truths — he loves his family, he loves his friend, he loves sweets. He's a perfectionist. He prefers cats to dogs. He's happy being alone.

Sometimes things change, and maybe that's why Taeyong feels so lost.

He's not as happy any more.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday is a blur. It passes by in the blink of an eye. Taeyong has a marketing project due by midnight that he spends an hour or two editing and cleaning up before sending off to his professor. He calls his mother. Nothing else interesting happens.

He doesn't remember he has a date until about 8am the following morning.

Calling it a date is probably an overstatement. Getting lunch is something that friends do all the time. Taeyong meets friends for lunch approximately four times a week — it doesn't mean anything. He tells himself that from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning, when the realization hits him over the head. He doesn't have a date. It's just lunch.

With Johnny Seo.

Taeyong is starting to think there's something seriously wrong with him, because his heart is funny and his chest hurts. The feeling of being out of place isn't unusual, and anxiety before hanging out with almost-friends is something that Taeyong is too used to. But the idea of meeting up with Sehun makes him feel too empty, and meeting up with Johnny makes him feel too full.

It's easier to not think about it.

On Tuesday, Taeyong had purposefully gone to class looking subhuman, but even if he tries to talk himself out of it his hands are fluttering towards the concealer and there's BB cream smeared on his cheeks before he can tell himself not to. He'll wear makeup sometimes. He bites his lips pale pink, but it's an accident. He styles his hair up away from his face and it's on purpose. Taeyong has a limit to how put together he looks on a daily basis, and he's very careful about not crossing that line. Skinny jeans, white t-shirt tucked in, old shoes, lip balm. Nothing else.

Because it's not a date, it's just lecture and lunch.

Lecture and lunch, he tells himself, staring in the mirror.

Human, if only just.

Johnny sits next to him again in class. He doesn't try to talk to Taeyong more than is socially acceptable, although he does tilt his computer towards him at one point, a crudely drawn MS Paint doodle of their professor as a magical girl, and Taeyong is so endeared he can't keep himself from cooing.

It's just a normal day. Taeyong is grateful for those.

When the session is over, Taeyong is a little slow to pack up his stuff. He watches his hands carefully for any signs of tremors, and his relief that there are none is so great he almost forgets to push the jitters down. Almost.

Johnny looks very casual, very normal, no extra effort put into his appearance, but he always cares at least a little, so Taeyong supposes that's not surprising. The glasses are back, round and old-fashioned, and his hair is underneath a white hat. His sweater is pink. His jeans are ripped. Taeyong only notices that when Johnny stands up and he sees skin.

"I can grab your bag for you," Johnny offers, once Taeyong has successfully zipped his backpack up.

"You want to carry two backpacks?" Taeyong asks, only slightly cheeky. He slings the strap over his shoulder. "I can get it."

Johnny just shrugs, _suit yourself_ , but he still opens the door for Taeyong on their way out of the classroom, and he measures his steps so he's always in Taeyong's line. He pushes his glasses up with one finger and asks Taeyong about the project he had turned in the night before.

Taeyong is happy to answer, and conversation is easy because Taeyong is trying not to think too hard. Ten is right about that — Taeyong needs to get out of his own head. Johnny is easy to talk to, gentle in an encouraging way, and interested. Taeyong wishes he could give that back, because Johnny deserves it.

"How is _Night Night_ going?" he asks, letting Johnny lead him through campus.

"Well," Johnny says mildly. "We've been doing it so long we don't need a very strict script, but it's still fun looking through the Twitter and pulling stuff to talk about. It's a nice distraction from lessons and homework and that kind of thing."

"That's important," Taeyong agrees. "That's why I still dance sometimes...even if it's hard to find the time."

"Ten mentioned you danced," Johnny says, "the last time I headed in."

"I forget that you go there sometimes." Taeyong frowns. "I've never seen you there." It'd been a while since Taeyong has spent much time in the studios; his excursion last week was unusual, and he hasn't been there since.

Johnny's eyes are warm. "Maybe you should go there more often?"

He thinks about dancing with Johnny and can't quite picture it. Johnny has sprinkled himself into Taeyong's life in other ways, but the dance studio is its own separate world — if Taeyong thinks about Johnny there his head might explode. If he thinks about Johnny _dancing_ — "You don't want to see me dance," Taeyong says, laughing. "Ten's enough of a spectacle."

"I've seen you dance," Johnny says, and it's surprising. Taeyong blinks, unsure of what to say, wracking his brain for when their paths might have crossed, but Johnny continues anyway. "You know Jaehyun dances more than I do. He was in the showcase last fall, so I went to watch."

"Ah." Taeyong scratches his neck. "I was in a few dances." Five, to be exact. It had almost killed him. He remembers the stress of hell week with absolute, traumatic clarity.

"I remember you." They're well past the student center, which is where Taeyong had assumed they were bound, but there are enough restaurants nearby. Taeyong assumes they’re heading off campus and decides just to accept it. It’s a little more of a _something_ than if they were just going to one of the eating halls, but Taeyong doesn’t have any real complaints. Something other than stir-fry and old chicken is always welcome. Johnny smiles, almost smirks. "Your hair was white."

Taeyong winces. "God, don't remind me." It had been a dare — he'd bet Ten he wouldn't make it past the auditions — but all of the dance professors had wanted to kill him when he dyed it. The upkeep had been miserable, and his hair was still recovering, even if it's long grown back. He has nightmares about bleach and ammonia.

"God, I think about it all the time," Johnny says dramatically, even as Taeyong pushes him hard enough to make him swerve off the sidewalk. "I remember thinking _who is that anime boy and why is he so talented?_ "

"Never talk to me again," Taeyong says, but he can't stop himself from blushing. "That whole showcase was crazy. I really overextended myself that semester, but I miss it."

"We can just dye it back," Johnny says earnestly, laughing at the look Taeyong gives him.

Johnny takes him to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant — _Pop!Thai_ , neon purple against decrepit brick — and Taeyong is a little nervous until they walk inside and it's clean as a whistle, covered in artwork Taeyong recognizes but can't place. "I come here specifically for the Thai donuts," Johnny admits, "but I have it on good authority their Pad Thai is to die for."

It's a bit more expensive that Taeyong had expected; well within a college student's means, but not for someone living on a budget. A minor luxury. The signs at the front door says to seat themselves, and Johnny pulls Taeyong's chair out for him, so Taeyong does the same for the chair on the other side, and they smile at each other as they switch sides to sit.

Johnny gets Thai Coffee, which is unsurprising. Taeyong snorts when he orders, and laughs harder when he’s pointedly ignored. Taeyong ends up getting the Pad Thai, Johnny gets curry, and Taeyong barely has time to eye the desserts before Johnny orders those as well. "Those are for me," he says pointedly, once the waiter has written down their order and walked back towards the kitchen. "Don't think I'm sharing."

"I'd never," Taeyong replies haughtily, even if Johnny had ordered enough sweets for three people.

It's nice. Easy. Taeyong is thankful. He's had so little of that, recently.

He ignores his sweaty hands and enjoys the company, as much as he can.

It's been a long time since Taeyong made a new friend — he prefers a small social circle. He wouldn't consider himself anti-social, despite whatever Ten might say, but more than three people at once is too much for Taeyong to handle, so he settles for his few friends and pulls them as close as he can. He has no regrets there. Still, Johnny is a nice addition, and Taeyong's forgotten how nice it is to learn someone from scratch. Johnny is unlike any of his other friends, not dramatic the way Ten can be, or brooding like Ilhoon, or even as perky as Mina. He's gentle, loud when he wants to be and never in the way Taeyong expects.

And he doesn't mention Taeyong's proposition. Not even once.

It's hard to tell whether Taeyong is grateful for that or not. He's more than happy to leave what might be his most embarrassing moment in recent memory behind, but every once in a while Taeyong thinks about it, about what Johnny had said on Night Night — _I hope you keep surprising me_ — and Taeyong can't convince himself it's not a step he wants to take.

The idea of kissing Johnny hits him in a different way. Mark had asked him about kissing Ten or Ilhoon, and even Sehun — someone he's more than kissed, much more — and it's different. He thinks it'd be different to kiss Johnny. He thinks Johnny might let him.

That's a whole separate revelation.

There's something about the way Johnny looks at him when he's talking, a warm kind of focused, soft, and Taeyong thinks that's the feeling he's looking for; the one he prays to God he's capable of. But Johnny never mentions moving forward, and Taeyong doesn't have the confidence to bring it up himself. All the courage he'd collected over the past couple decades had been wasted on a stupid question in Johnny's kitchen on Friday morning, and he doesn't have it in himself to bring it up again.

But Johnny has more or less given him an answer. All Taeyong has to do is gather enough courage to take him up on it.

Not today. Today, he gathers a little more and sees how far it takes him.

Taeyong's phone is sitting out, face up, on the table, and he's halfway through lunch when it starts buzzing. "Ah, sorry," he says, picking it up. He's not sure who he expects, maybe Mark, who has a history of terrible timing. In reality, it's Sehun.

_Hey, what's up?_

Taeyong frowns. Sets his phone down. He'll answer later.

His phone buzzes again. _Can I bring you coffee? Or are you still busy?_

"Who's that?" Johnny asks, pushing glass noodles onto his spoon.

"It's just Sehun," Taeyong answers.

It's an innocuous statement, but something subdued flashes over Johnny's face, and he looks at Taeyong's phone for a heartbeat before saying, "You should answer."

"Okay," Taeyong says. He's already set the phone down, but if Johnny thinks he should Taeyong isn't going to argue. "He just wanted to know if he could stop by." _Sorry! I'm still out at lunch :( Thank you, tho!_ Send.

Sehun must be waiting for a response. _With Johnny?_

Taeyong isn't sure he mentioned who exactly he was planning on getting lunch with. He taps his screen thoughtfully, glancing up at Johnny. There's still that subdued look on his face, and he's looking at his noodles instead of at Taeyong.

Taeyong takes a plunge.

**Oh Sehun**

Yes! I'm with Johnny. We went out for Thai ^^

How's it going?

Really well! You're right, he's a great guy

I have good taste.  
I'll have to show him up when we go out tomorrow

Is it a competition? Lmao

Maybe

 

Taeyong hand hovers over his keyboard. He sets his phone down. "Sorry," he tells Johnny after a moment. "I shouldn’t be texting when we're out for lunch."

"I don't mind," Johnny says mildly. "You and Sehun have known each other longer, anyway."

It's an absurd comment for a reason Taeyong can't place. He laughs. "Barely. But even so, it's still rude."

Johnny wipes his mouth with a napkin, even if there's nothing on his face. "He mentioned you guys were going out tomorrow?"

"I think so," Taeyong answers. "He asked to hang out today, but I'm hanging out with you, so we pushed it back."

"Ah." Small. Johnny's eyes drift sideways.

"Is everything okay?" Taeyong asks quietly.

"I've never been better," Johnny says, and he shakes off his melancholy for something bright and cheerful. "I'm really looking forward to these donuts."

"They'd better be good." Taeyong grins, chewing on the tines of his fork. "You've hyped them up so much, I'll be disappointed it they fall flat."

"Have I ever lied to you?" Johnny demands, mock-offended.

"I don't think you've ever had the occasion to," Taeyong says through a smile. "I'm sure you're more than capable."

"I'm a _gentleman_."

"I know that." Taeyong laughs. "All men are liars. It's a fact."

The smile on Johnny's face is so bright its cartoonish. "You're also a man. You're too cute to lie."

Taeyong bites his cheek and pushes aside the mild panic rising in his chest when he hears the word _cute._ "I lie to myself all the time."

"We all do." Johnny says gravely. "It's the human condition." His hands twist his fork, fingers flitting, and Taeyong's eyes are caught by the movement.

He can lie to himself a little longer. "That's kind of sad, if that's what makes us human."

"Well, if you think about it, we're the only ones that lie at all," Johnny says. He takes a bite of his glass noodles. "Name another species that lies."

"Opossum," Taeyong answers. "They fake dead."

Johnny blinks. "Okay, you got me."

Taeyong giggles, an embarrassingly small sound, and he hides his smile behind his hand. "You can fake dead all you want but if you lie about these donuts, I'm suing. I don't play when it comes to dessert."

"I've really never lied in my life." Johnny puts his hand over his heart. "Scout's honor."

"You weren't a boy scout," Taeyong accuses, eyes narrowed.

Johnny's expression turns grave again. "I will do my best to obey the Scout Law, to help other people at all times, to keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight."

Taeyong laughs. "Gross."

"I fucked that up, I think," Johnny admits, running a hand through his hair. "But I can make a fire with two sticks and pure will, so who's the real winner?"

"Me." Taeyong rests his chin on the palm of his hand, and he feels more at peace than he has in weeks. "I get donuts."

His phone buzzes again. Taeyong turns it face down and returns to his meal. Johnny watches the phone carefully, clearly noting Taeyong's lack of response, and takes a careful sip of his coffee.

"I know you, uh, mentioned a while ago..."

It's the most unsure Johnny has sounded since Taeyong met him. He watches Johnny with careful eyes, pretends his heart isn't beating too quickly.

"I just, um..." Johnny laughs at himself, scratching his neck. "I have a friend who you might like to talk to." It's a little out of left field. Johnny seems to realize this too, and that's maybe why he can't find his footing. "Just 'cause you mentioned you had a hard time relating to other people when it comes to relationships and stuff."

Taeyong purses his lips, hand stilling on his fork. "I don't really..." He frowns at himself, trying to find the words. They're hard to look for. "It's hard for me to talk about that with other people," he admits. "I'm not really sure why it was different with you."

"I get that." Johnny looks rather somber, even if there's pink high on his cheekbones. "I'm not trying to force anything on you. It's just that....that's not the first time I've had that kind of conversation."

It peaks Taeyong's interest, if nothing else. "Oh?"

"You're not...abnormal, Taeyong." Johnny looks at him earnestly. "I just want you to believe that. That you're going through something other people have also gone through. Sometimes we get so wrapped up in ourselves we feel completely isolated, but there are a billion people in the world — we're never truly alone, you know? In anything, even if if it's just the way we see the world."

This is the closest Taeyong has ever been to truly wanting to kiss someone. The look on Johnny's face is so genuine, so open. Taeyong thinks that's something special. He knows himself to appear cold, closed off — hard to approach, hard to talk to, hard to get through to. Someone without walls, with gently drawn boundaries...Taeyong isn't sure he's ever met someone like that. He's jealous, envious. Endeared.

Mildly frightened.

Even if this is what he wanted. To be normal.

Taeyong inspects Johnny's face, the worry lines and the soft bow of his lips and the warm amber of his eyes, and he asks, "Did you mean it?" He swallows. "When you said to ask you again when I was sure?"

Johnny doesn't react for a moment, a long moment where Taeyong is worried he's massively overstepped. But as always, Johnny isn't perturbed. "We're having two different conversations," he says, biting his lips to hide a smile.

"They're both important," Taeyong says.

"Maybe." Johnny sighs. "I think that you accepting yourself as you are is more important than...anything else."

How can he says things like that and not expect Taeyong's heart to clench uncomfortably? This is new territory. Here be dragons on the map of Taeyong's emotional history, the way his stomach tightens and his chest threatens to collapse. Is this how it's supposed to feel? Is this how humans work? Taeyong wants to believe it.

"If it makes you happy, I'd like to meet your friend," he says.

It's the truth. If it makes Johnny happy, Taeyong's beginning to suspect he would do all sorts of things.

Johnny takes the admission delicately. Warily, almost, like he doesn't believe him. "You've already met him," he says, carefully. "It's Jaehyun, the guy I cohost with?"

Taeyong blinks. "Oh." It's not what he expected.

"I'm not outing him or anything," Johnny says in a rush. "We talked about it before. He'd like to talk to you about stuff, if you want to."

Taeyong swallows. "Outing him?"

It's interesting, this phenomenon where people clear their faces of all expression when they're about to say something and they're worried about the response. Ten does it, Mina does it, Taeyong certainly does it. Taeyong watches careful neutrality seep into the lines of Johnny's face with quiet apprehension.

"As asexual," Johnny says, taking a causal bite of his lunch.

Taeyong follows suit. "Ah." A twirl of his fork, noodles in his mouth, chew and swallow.

"Just let me know if that's something you want to do," Johnny says.

There's no harm there, in what Johnny offers. There never is. "Okay," Taeyong says quietly.

"It's an open invitation," Johnny continues softly. "No expectation. And even if you...don't want to talk to him about that kind of thing, I really do think you guys would get along."

"He's really nice," Taeyong admits. "I hear you guys talk on _Night Night_ all the time. He's in the studios sometimes."

"He mentioned you last year, during the showcase," Johnny says, and that's just another thing Taeyong doesn't expect to hear. "He admires you a lot. It's rare to find someone working so hard outside of their major."

"It's easy to work hard when you love something," Taeyong admits. He loves dancing. It's easy to get swept up in the chaos.

"I think loving something that much is really special, though." Johnny's fingers, and Taeyong thinks he might have been tempted to reach out for the hand Taeyong has setting out on the table. "Some people never experience that in their lifetime."

"I'm lucky in that way, I guess." Taeyong swallows thickly.

Johnny's eyes crinkles when he smiles. "So am I."

Sometimes, the easy way Johnny carries himself makes Taeyong feel inferior, but the longer they sit together the more Taeyong thinks it's something to push towards instead of pull away from. There's an odd kind of magnetism to Johnny. Taeyong wouldn't call it charm. Charisma, maybe, but it's so gentle.

That kind of sincerity is hard to protect yourself from.

"You're the nicest guy I think I've ever met," Taeyong tells him, terrifyingly honest, as Johnny pays for both of their meals.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit," Johnny answers.

Something tugs at Taeyong's heart, and it's terrifying.

Taeyong's phone remains face down on the table.

 

* * *

 

"Would you kiss me if I asked you to?" Taeyong asks Ten at two in the morning.

Ten peeks his head over the edge of the bunk bed. "Yes," he says plainly. "I love you."

"Gross."

Ten sticks out his tongue. "Would you want me to, though?"

Taeyong doesn't think he would mind. "Kissing isn't a big deal." It's one of the few intimacies Taeyong knows he likes.

"Mhmm." Ten sounds unconvinced. "You want a kiss?"

"Not really." Taeyong laughs. "I'm just thinking in hypotheticals."

"I'm sure Sehun would give you kisses."

The face Taeyong makes must be rather telling.

"Or...maybe Johnny?"

"We never had this conversation," Taeyong says, and he buries his face in his pillow.

The sound of Ten laughing at him is the last thing he hears before deciding to finally fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong ends up agreeing to meet with Jaehyun, if only because it makes Johnny happy.

"You'll get along really well," Johnny says, when Taeyong takes him up on his offer. "He's like, super nice. The nicest guy ever. But don't tell him I said that. I have a reputation to uphold.

Taeyong isn't sure what kind of reputation that is, but he's certain the fact that Johnny Seo loves his friends isn't news to anyone.

His meeting with Jaehyun is mildly postponed — Taeyong isn't used to having so many social schedules during the week. He almost forgets his dinner with Sehun until Ten reminds him, and even then he's late, rushing there after a short stint in the dance studios.

"So sorry," Taeyong says in a huff, collapsing into the booth. "I was distracted. Lost track of time. I'm the worst."

"Never," Sehun says. His smile doesn't reach his eyes.

Taeyong has to physically stop himself from asking after Johnny. He has the sneaking suspicion that something's happening between the two of them, but regardless of his suspicions, it's obvious enough that any inquiries aren't welcome. It's a tense dinner, as much as either of them try to pretend otherwise.

In that way, Taeyong agreeing to meet with Jaehyun is a welcome distraction; there are no expectations there. Taeyong doesn't really know Jaehyun at all, and Jaehyun only knows what Johnny may or may not have told him.

Taeyong has had enough lunch dates to last him the month, but there aren't very many other options for college students aside from studying and coffee, so Jaehyun — through Johnny's mediating — agrees to meet Taeyong in the student café on Saturday after lunch.

"Sorry I'm late," Jaehyun says when he arrives, even though they never set a time.

"That's okay," Taeyong says. He'd gotten there a little early and is on his second muffin, but that's more his fault than Jaehyun's. He'd cranked through a short essay in the time he waited and watched the cat's march to calm his heart. He pulls his iced coffee closer with both hands and takes a sip. "I was just working on school stuff. How are you?" It's a little stiff, because Taeyong is expecting this conversation to go a very specific and uncomfortable way, but what little he knows of Jaehyun makes him fond, so he's trying.

"Swamped." Jaehyun smiles anyway. His dimples make everything about him sweet, and Taeyong carefully notes the way his face slips from almost painful handsome to something soft and welcoming. That really is something Taeyong needs to get better at. "They're doing a senior showcase and I said I'd dance for it, but one of the choreographers is literally riding our asses so hard."

"Student choreo is such a cool opportunity but also like, Russian Roulette." Taeyong laughs. "I'm lucky because Ten snatches me before anyone else and I can tell him when to back off." He has his own horror stories."

Jaehyun gets out his laptop and sets it the on the table, chord wrapped up haphazardly in his hand. "I wish I was working for Ten. I got Sicheng and...Seulgi. And then the crazy one. Seulgi's is super fun but Sicheng's is all _contemporary_."

Taeyong grins. "Not your thing?"

"I'm better at other things," Jaehyun admits. "But I'm getting better so he won't put me in the back like I asked."

"He knows you can do it," Taeyong says. "He's a good friend."

"Yeah."

It's quiet.

"I'm just going to like, clear the air?" Jaehyun offers after a heartbeat. It's not long enough for Taeyong to really start feeling the pressure of the silence, and Jaehyun himself looks significantly more at east that Taeyong feels, but it's clear that there are expectations on Jaehyun's end too. "Johnny came up to me like, a week ago?"

Probably not long after their talk on Friday. "Okay."

"He mentioned that he had an interesting conversation with one of his friends and that he thought I'd be helpful," Jaehyun rattles off. "And Johnny doesn't usually ask for things, so I'll admit I was intrigued."

"I'm not very interesting," Taeyong says apologetically. "I'm not even sure why I opened up to Johnny in the first place." He purses his mouth. When he thinks about that night it's just a haze, and he suspects it had just been the universe setting him up for an emotional breakdown — the timing and the setting came together and unhinged his jaw.

Jaehyun picks at one of the stickers on this laptop, a curling Pokéball that's yellowed and torn. "Johnny has that effect sometimes," he says eventually. "Like, I don't think I've ever met anyone better at relaxing people."

Taeyong hums. He understands that. "He's really...something special."

"He is," Jaehyun says, and Taeyong is glad he's having this conversation with him, because literally every other person Taeyong knows would be psychoanalyzing him into the ground. "But if he overstepped his boundaries, that's okay. You don't have to like, talk about it with me or anything."

"No!" Taeyong rushes, a little frantically. His fingers curl around his cup, bending thin plastic. "No. He didn't overstep. He was very...you know how he is."

Jaehyun nods. "I just know it can be hard."

"It is." Taeyong chews on the inside of his cheek. "But it's probably better just to...rip the band-aid off, you know?"

"Sure." Jaehyun is a smiley person, consistently falling back into an open expression. Taeyong wonders if he's focusing on that or if it's just a part of his personality. "So...what do you want to talk about?"

Taeyong blanches. "Shouldn't...I mean, you can start." He doesn't want to talk about himself. He wants to talk about anything except for himself.

Jaehyun snorts. "This isn't for me. I know I'm ace."

There's a question, something for Taeyong's scrambling brain to hold. "How?" He swallows. "How did you know?"

"Sometime in high school...you know how high schoolers are." He laughs, a bit short, a bit breathy. "My friends were just talking about sex all the time — having sex, if they'd have sex with this person or that person, how hot someone was. To an extent I thought they were like, joking? Because I never thought about it, like ever. So I would join in just to be a part of the conversation." He sighs. It's weighted. "I don't really think they would have cared if I hadn't, I just...felt like I had to."

"I get that," Taeyong says. "I was always...my friends didn't talk about that stuff with me. I think they thought I was too innocent or something, and then when I got older they just saw me as cold, like a robot." He laughs. The word doesn't sting as much as it used to, but it still lingers, like splinters in finger tips.

"I'm sorry," Jaehyun says, with a wince. "But that's like, not what it's about, being innocent or cold or...They should have reconsidered. You don't seem like a cold person."

"Yeah, I just wasn't interested in it. " Taeyong taps the keys of his laptop rhythmically. "Or like, not how everyone else was."

"I don't know if you're like aro or sex-positive or anything." Jaehyun sinks back in his chair. "I'm sex-repulsed."

"I...don't know what that means," Taeyong admits. He laughs. "I mean, I can guess, but—"

"Yeah, that's fine." Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair. "I like...when I was a senior in high school I figured I'd give it a try, just to like, satisfy the people around me." He grimaces. "It was a stupid decision. I really don't think they would have cared if I had just been up front, but it feels like so much pressure, and you know high schoolers — the idea of being different is the worst."

Taeyong feels that in college, too. He wonders if it's just a part of being human.

"It was...really bad." Jaehyun looks so sad, the most closed off since he sat down at the table, and Jaehyun is only a sophomore. His senior year of high school wasn't that long ago. "God, it was so bad. I felt disgusting, for a month, maybe longer. And then I felt _worse_ because like, who hurt me?"

"What...do you mean?" Taeyong asks slowly, his hands completely still.

"I always attributed sex-repulsion to trauma," Jaehyun says, slowly, and there's that weight again. "Obviously...that was...ignorant. It was...like, when I thought about masturbating, or having sex, it made me so uncomfortable, and I just ignored it because it didn't make sense to me."

In some ways, Taeyong can't relate to that. He had no problem thinking about sex — maybe a bad feeling had lingered afterwards, but Taeyong doesn't think it had anything to do with sex and more to do with his situation. But — _who hurt me?_ — trying to figure out what's wrong with you, why, trying to validate yourself, that's something he feels in his bones.

"But people are all really different and like different things," Jaehyun says eventually. "Media portrays sex as like, the one thing that's truly universal, but..." He huffs. "I should really be better at talking about this. There's too many words to say and I'm not sure which ones you need."

Taeyong laughs. "It's honestly just nice hearing about someone who understands."

Jaehyun sighs, resting his cheek in his hand, and he looks at Taeyong fondly. "Asexuality might not be a label you feel like giving yourself, but the idea that there are a million different ways to experience sexual and romantic attraction is really important. Just because your experience isn't mine or isn't Johnny's or Sehun's doesn't mean you're wrong, or I'm wrong."

"You say it like that and it seems so straight forward." Taeyong laughs, shaking his head. "I don't...know why it's so hard."

"Big mood." Jaehyun takes a long sip of his coffee. "Anyway, the lecture can be over. Professor Jung can set his syllabus aside and we can open the room for discussion." He folds his hand properly, straightens his posture, and looks around the café. "Any questions?"

Taeyong blows bubbles into his coffee. "Have you ever...been in a relationship?"

Jaehyun hums. "A few. One in high school, and another two in college so far." He frowns. "Only one was a disaster, but I think it's because we were wrong for each other in like, more ways than one."

Taeyong pulls at his hair. "That's the part that terrifies me. Like, you never _know._ "

"I don't think that's true," Jaehyun says evenly. "Good people recognize good people." He grins. "And what's the worst thing that happens? Heartbreak? That's hardly a reason to stop living life."

"That's an extremely narrow view of things that could go wrong." Taeyong laughs anyway. " _So many_ things could go wrong."

"I mean, in my opinion, that has more to do with like, the fact that sometimes people are messy." Jaehyun rests his elbows on the table. "And I don't think there's anything wrong with being careful, either. It's just a matter of knowing when to stop."

"But also, _so many_ things could go wrong."

Jaehyun laughs, full-bodied, and kicks Taeyong's shins gently beneath the table. "Don't let your sexuality stop you from anything," he chastises. "Give people a chance to surprise you."

"I don't know if it's like..." Taeyong takes a deep breath, eyes far away. "If something does go wrong, I'm pretty sure it will be my fault."

"It's scary," Jaehyun agrees. Soft. He thinks for a moment, fingers swirling in the sweat on the side of his cup. "Like, the first time I bring it up to anyone, it's scary. And sometimes they...sometimes it's deal-breaker." He swallows thickly. "And I won't say that's not a horrible feeling. But there are people out there that deserve your time, because they know what matters and what doesn't."

Taeyong inspects Jaehyun's face closely. The lighting in the café is shit, and the lines on his face are heavy with the kind of exhaustion that only hits you in college, but he believes what he's saying, and that's going to have to be enough.

"For what it's worth," Jaehyun says eventually, a secret kind of smile hiding in the corners of his mouth, "Johnny is one of those people."

Immediately Taeyong turns to his computer, fingers on the keyboard, cheeks red. "Wow, good talk."

Taeyong carefully adds Jaehyun to the growing list of people who make him feel comfortable, ignores the pointed look the other boy gives him, and pretends like he doesn't have anything to think about.

 

* * *

 

**Johnny**

Thanks for setting me and Jaehyun up  
Just to talk  
Idk it was just nice to talk to someone and things be simple

I'm glad! I really like Jaehyun a lot! He's great!  
I just wanted to be a little helpful

It was helpful~ so I'm thankful

Good  
♥

 

* * *

 

"Ten, what does this mean?"

"It means he sent you a fucking heart, Taeyong. Go the fuck to bed."

 

* * *

 

**Johnny**

♥

 

* * *

 

Some nights, Taeyong just gets the jitters. Insomnia hits funny that way — sometimes it feels like you're too tired to sleep, or too distracted to sleep, and sometimes it feels like if you don't get out of bed and force the static out of your fingertips then you'll actually die.

It's almost four in the morning, right on the hazy line between Sunday night and Monday morning. All his homework is done, all chores completed earlier on in the day. None of his friends are awake to call. Taeyong thinks he could take a risk and call Mark, but his cousin has seemed stressed the past week or so, and even if his sleep-schedule is fucked, he doesn't deserve to be woken up if Taeyong guesses wrong.

Also, Taeyong is hungry.

Nothing they have in the room sounds good. It's a collection of junk food at this point — Taeyong hasn't gone grocery shopping in a while and Ten has no qualms gorging himself on instant noodles and protein shakes when he's feeling lazy. Taeyong's sweet tooth is aching. There's an all-night donut place about a 15 minute walk from campus. Or, for an extra five minutes, he could make it all the way to convenience store and get all the candy he wants.

Taeyong slips on a hoodie and some sandals and hopes that his jitters last at least long enough that he doesn't collapse on the side of the road, dead-asleep.

If it were a Saturday at least there might be students bustling around campus. Someone is almost always out in the quad playing frisbee golf or making out against the brick walls of the library, but everyone with peace of mind is in their beds now, preparing for their Monday classes. It's just Taeyong and the campus squirrels, and they've never been great company.

The dew is cold on the bare skin of his feet, and Taeyong's almost grateful when he makes it the main road. It's a straight stretch to the highway, and Taeyong can already see the still-glowing lights of the donut shop. If he squints he can see the silhouette of the girl stuck at the counter, imagine her face. There's one student who takes the late shift there — her name is Hyojin, and sometimes she gives Taeyong the employee discount.

Twenty minutes isn't too long of a walk, even if Taeyong almost changes his mind and heads to the donut shop anyway, but the allure of packaged candy is too strong, and his jitters still haven't melted into the sidewalk. The extra five minutes doesn't do him much good, but the atmosphere in the convenience store once he gets there is worth the time. Late night gas stations and corner stores all have the same feeling, something nostalgic, no matter where you are. It doesn't quite remind Taeyong of hope, but it is rather settling.

The guy at the counter barley looks up when Taeyong enters, and Taeyong doesn't feel pressed to smile in greeting, and he slips towards the sweets without a word.

Taeyong isn't alone in the store. In fact, there's two of them here, total, which is one more than Taeyong had expected, but they're close enough to campus that students taking a last night stroll isn't out of the ordinary. Taeyong sees someones head high above the shelves, dark and ruffled, and wonders if someone else was fought with sleep and lost.

Taeyong is debating between the dango and the package of gummies — in reality, calculating how much they might cost if he gets both — when he hears the shuffling and feels the shadow. "Taeyong?"

It's kind of an out-of-body experience. Taeyong doesn't exist as a human at this time of night, so hearing his name out loud is almost jarring, but when he looks up it's Johnny looking at him over the shelf. There are those dark circles, the college staple, and his t-shirt falls slightly off of one shoulder. His hair falls over his eyes, dark. Messy. He still looks happy to see Taeyong.

"Good morning," Taeyong says eventually, after his brain has processed that someone is speaking to him and words are necessary. "Come here often?"

"Is that a line?" Johnny asks, a quirk to his lips. He's leaning on the stand now, his elbows digging into a crumpled bag of chips.

Taeyong's fingers are in great danger of popping the packaging on his candy. "It wasn't a line. I'm not awake."

"It's allowed to be a line," Johnny teases, even as Taeyong looks at him, a bit sour. "But I do come here often, thanks for asking. I ran out of beans." It's a weird sentence until Johnny holds up a bag of unground coffee for Taeyong to see.

"I figured you’d be a snob about that kind of thing," Taeyong says, almost teasing. Right on the border of teasing. All he needs is a push.

"I am a snob," Johnny says, tossing the hair out of his eyes haughtily. "I only drink convenience store coffee. Arabica, who?"

Maybe it's the fact that it's late and Taeyong's inherently soft, but he's too tired to keep himself from melting. He looks at Johnny fondly. "Thanks for thinking of me," he says gently, "with the Jaehyun thing."

Johnny smiles, so warm, even when his eyes are a little dead. Taeyong himself feels like a zombie, so he appreciates the effort. "You already thanked me for that, like, at least 24 hours ago."

"It..." Taeyong rocks back on his heels, just a bit, and feels like a child. "It means a lot to me, that you cared enough to reach out."

Johnny can pretend all he wants; Taeyong's proposition last week was weird and out of place and probably confusing, and the conversation that night before was also all over the place because _Taeyong_ is all over the place. But even if things were weird — _surprising_ , at best — Johnny still saw steps he could take and took them.

"You deserve to feel comfortable," Johnny says, unerringly earnest. "You know that, right?"

Taeyong huffs. It's too late for this kind of conversation, but maybe Johnny is the kind of person who pulls secrets out of the deep in the middle of the night. Taeyong can't judge him for that — now is as good a time as any. "You're doing this on purpose," he accuses.

Johnny's eyebrows raise up, to the hairline and beyond, and he tilts his head sideways like a puppy trying to hear. "Doing what?"

Another plunge. "Being charming," Taeyong says, miserable.

It's the first time Taeyong thinks he's seen the tips of Johnny's ears get red. "I'm not charming," he fires back, hand on his neck. "I just talk a lot and sometimes something works out in my favor."

"So it's not on purpose?" Taeyong is doubtful.

"Whatever do you mean?" Johnny asks, the picture of innocence, and Taeyong huffs.

"I don't get it," Taeyong says, half-way to Johnny but mostly to himself. He tugs uselessly on the strings of his hoodie. "I don't get what's different with you."

Johnny's mouth falls open, like maybe he's going to keep talking until something else sticks, but nothing comes out.

"I keep waiting for you to scare me away," Taeyong admits. It's loud and obnoxious in his own head, in his heart, but in the early-morning of the store it's almost a whisper. "Everyone always does."

"That is on purpose." Johnny's own admission. "I kind of would like it if you stuck around."

"I hate that," Taeyong says, awkwardly, laughing, hiding his face his shoulder. His face burns. "What the fuck."

Johnny laughs, louder and more boisterous that Taeyong's tiny sound. "I'm not holding you hostage. I just like talking to you. I don't expect anything out of you."

Taeyong narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "Not even a kiss?"

"No," Johnny says, immediately, even if his surprise that Taeyong mentioned it is written out cleanly on his face. "I'm the one who stopped you last time. I don't expect it."

Taeyong taps his ratty sandal against the cracked linoleum, hands useless at his sides. "Would you turn me down if I asked you now?"

Johnny looks at him, really looks at him. "Are you ready, now?"

Taeyong really isn't sure, but sometimes things seem like insurmountable walls and right now Johnny feels like an open door. His eyes drop down to Johnny's mouth consideringly. He has a nice mouth, if Taeyong thinks about it. "Maybe."

It's funny, because Taeyong is so busy looking at Johnny's mouth and thinking surprisingly calm thoughts that he doesn't notice how much closer Johnny's face is, or how much he's leaning on the display. Despite that, Taeyong somehow isn't shocked when Johnny shifts, ever closer, and the entire supply of chips on his side slide off the now-crooked shelf and onto the floor.

Johnny blinks rapidly, jolted when his support shifts, and then looks at the mess he's made. "Well, fuck," he says lightly, disappearing out of Taeyong's view.

"Is that a no?" Taeyong asks, laughing, but he walks out and around into the next to see Johnny gently placing an entire hoard of salt and vinegar chips on the unstable shelf.

"I didn't say that!" Johnny rushes. He’s crouched on the floor, the big baby, and his ears are still pink. Taeyong won't say he's not delighted in a small, fuzzy kind of way. "But we're dealing with disaster right now."

"Please." Taeyong snorts. He still has his own snacks in his hands, and he sticks one of them in his pocket. With his newly freed hand he lifts up the lower end of the shelf and sets it back in place. "Don't think you're supposed to lean on these."

"You're a very bad influence," Johnny tells him, throwing a bag at him, and Taeyong sets it back in place with a grin. "If you had just walked around into my aisle this wouldn't have happened."

"Doors go both ways, sir." Taeyong isn't sure how he feels. A moment lost, and he mourns it a little, but there's nothing wrong with this moment either. Johnny stands up, too tall — a big gangling shadow. His eyes are brighter than they had been fifteen minutes ago, and Taeyong thinks it might be because of him.

The package of dango is completely mutilated in his hand, plastic dented beyond reasonable repair, but he's committed to buying them both by now. He pops the package back in place as much as he can and pulls the gummies from his pocket. He doesn't look at Johnny, very pointedly. Maybe his face is still burning.

This is the second time he's asked Johnny to kiss him, and neither time has Johnny said no.

"To be fair," Johnny is staying, hands shoved in his pockets, "you were asking me to kiss you. Being close to each other is like, half the battle. I was just trying to do my part."

He says that, but he's standing where where he was, relaxed and easy, and Taeyong thinks Johnny must be so patient. Taeyong looks at him and feels like the man would wait forever, even at four in the morning in a dingy corner store.

Taeyong thinks Johnny is special, even if he can't put a finger on why.

"How close?" Taeyong asks. He takes a step forward. "This close?"

Johnny laughs at him. "If that's what you want."

Taeyong pauses. "But what do _you_ want?"

"I don't think that really matters."

"Of course it does," Taeyong says firmly, quietly.

"Okay, okay." Johnny holds his hands up, surrendered, and it sounds lighthearted. But then his eyes melt, just enough. "I do want to."

Another step, a little closer. "Want to _what?_ "

Johnny sighs. "You're the worst," but he smiles. "Want to kiss you."

Taeyong's nerves are thrumming, pulled taut. His shoulders are tense. He won't say he isn't nervous. He's not even sure he's ready. But it's too early in the morning for him to think about consequences, and maybe that's the only thing that's been stopping him.

He's close enough, now, maybe closer than he needs to be, and he can't quite look Johnny in the face, but there's a hand on his hip — gentle — and it's grounding.

"I'm really..." Taeyong starts, face turned to he's talking to Johnny's shoulder. "Uh..."

It makes Johnny laugh. "Take your time. I've got another...six hours before classes start."

Taeyong groans, his forehead falling onto Johnny's chest. "Don't remind me."

Johnny's other hand comes around his waist, wraps around his back, and it feels more like a hug than anything. Taeyong is surprised how much it makes him melt. His head is swimming. He's so tired, barely operating on any level, and Johnny smells good even though it's the middle of the night and no one is allowed to be human at this time of day.

"You're dumb," Taeyong says, voice muffled in the material of Johnny's sweatshirt.

"Yeah," Johnny agrees.

Deep breath. Pull back. Lean in.

Somewhere in between, Taeyong finds his resolve, and then he finds Johnny's lips with his own.

Johnny's hands tighten, just a bit, the only sign of his surprise, but Taeyong is too distracted by a million other things to take much note of it. Johnny's mouth is warm, lips chapped, kiss lazy, and Taeyong waits for the panic to set in so he can stomp it down.

Nothing rises. Taeyong's hands shake where they're tangled in Johnny's shirt.

Its nothing drastic — just a press of lips, soft. Johnny sighs a little, Taeyong can feel the movement of his chest they're pressed so close together. Head tilts, just slightly, and they fit together that much better. Johnny keeps his hands where they are, and Taeyong doesn't have the presence of mind to hold on the way he wants to.

Taeyong pulls away first, not far, and breathes for a moment. Just breathes. He feels like this is the first time he ever has.

Johnny pulls a hand from Taeyong's waist, runs it up his arm, covers Taeyong's shaking hand with his own. Taeyong lets go of the hoodie, palms sweaty, and Johnny's grip is warm and solid and comforting. "You okay?"

Taeyong wills himself to relax, but it isn't working. "I...think so."

"You can say no," Johnny reminds him.

"I know." Taeyong huffs. "I know that."

They're standing close, too close, but it's comfortable, and Taeyong has to cherish that when he finds it.

"We should try again," Taeyong decides.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. "You really want to make out in the convenience store?"

Taeyong pushes Johnny aside, and Johnny is good natured enough to pretend like there was force behind it. "That's not what I said!"

"Don't make me knock over the shelf again!"

"You deserve it!" Taeyong throws his snacks at him, and Johnny catches it with one hand. "I can't believe I kissed you!"

"Me either," Johnny admits, with a special kind of wonder. He holds up Taeyong's candy. "Also, I’m buying these."

"Get your own," Taeyong says with a scowl. His palms are sweaty, but the line of his shoulders is less tense. Figures; Taeyong can't relax himself, but Johnny helps make things a little easier.

"I prefer chocolate," Johnny tells him, inspecting the packaging. "What else did you get?"

Taeyong holds up the mutilated dumplings, and Johnny takes that package, too, before grabbing the coffee he'd come here to buy and turning on his heels. "I'm not letting you pay for me _again_ ," Taeyong argues, but Johnny is already at the counter. "I can afford some candy."

"I won't make it a thing," Johnny compromises, as if he really cares about Taeyong's protests — he's digging his wallet out of his pocket as he speaks. "You can get the bill next time. I'll get something really expensive."

"You'd better." Petulant. Taeyong holds himself around the middle, like he can keep himself together. The cashier reads off the total with dead eyes, and it's not too bad. Taeyong still feels a little guilty about getting both items, but Johnny doesn't seem to mind. Taeyong squints at the numbers as Johnny swipes his card. "And dessert."

"If I have to." Johnny grins at him, taking the bag the worker hands him. "Are you going back to campus?"

Taeyong is afraid to check the time. "I probably should," he says quietly. His head is starting to ache with fatigue, and his limbs feel both floaty and weighed down. He has an early class he's fully planning on dying in.

"Maybe we should hold off trying it again," Johnny says. The bag hangs from his elbow, hands back in his pockets, but his ears are still red. It's cute. He's cute. Taeyong can't quite process someone looking like that, in this kind of place, at this time of night, but Johnny always manages. "Until you're less of a zombie."

Taeyong scratches his neck. "Harsh but valid." His lips tingle a little bit, not that he's thinking about it. "I don't want to kiss you, anyway," he mumbles.

"Mhmm." Johnny opens the door for him, unbothered, smiling. Kind of perfect. "I'll walk you home."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten so many just absolutely heart-warming comments from you guys, from people who relate a lot to Taeyong and people who are just learning new things, and I really hope this fic continues to be something special for you. I'm a hermit but I'm always up for discussion, too, especially since this is based on my own feelings. This has also been a special process for me, and I'm so grateful at all of the comments you guys have left me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SAW NCT IRL AND IT WAS AMAZING I caught one of the balls they threw into the audience.....I've been Blessed

Johnny walks Taeyong home, Taeyong makes it through his Monday classes on only an hour and a half of sleep, and everything in Taeyong's life is shifted gently to the left.

He's dealing in centimeters instead of inches, but the change feels welcome and complete. That night he sits in his bed — quietly, so as not to annoy Ten, who is fast asleep and already done with Taeyong's bullshit — and he holds his pillow to his chest and thinks about the courage he gathered to kiss Johnny Seo. It's unlike him. Or, it _is_ like him, because he did it, but it's a new part he hasn't dealt with before. Does he like it?

Taeyong thinks of Johnny smiling at him right outside of the dorm, like they shared a secret, and muffles his scream into his pillow case.

Johnny had kissed his forehead. "Goodnight." — and that was it.

Taeyong really does stay up too late thinking about it, but maybe the sun wants to know about his good night, so he waits for her to rise before he finally falls asleep.

The jitters never really go away; they just shift gently to the left, into new territory.

"Someone looks like they're dying," Ten quips when Taeyong pries himself out of bed, nearly collapsing on the floor in a tangle of his sheets. Ten smacks his lips, toothpaste dried on the corner of his mouth. "Late night?"

Taeyong groans on the floor. "Kill me."

"Never." Ten isn't exactly an early riser, but he does take great pains to always look his best, so he's already glowing as he twirls around in the swivel chair. "Why am I already awake, you ask?"

Taeyong rubs the sleep out of his eyes. "I didn't ask."

"I'm awake because your phone kept fucking ringing." Ten rolls his eyes. "Why do you only wake up to your alarm? How did the Canadian national anthem playing on repeat not make a dent?"

"Oh, it must have been Mark." Taeyong yawns. "I don't know. I've trained my mind to value sleep above all else."

"Or you're an idiot." Ten delicately taps BB cream into the bags under his eyes, but when he turns towards his roommate again he's smirking. "What does the twerp want?"

Taeyong runs a hand through his hair. He feels like a bloated trash bag that's been run over by a truck repeatedly, but he's still smiling when he taps his screen alive and sees _(3) Missed Calls from Mark Lee_."Let's find out."

Mark's school started half an hour ago, but he's complained enough times about his senior study hall that Taeyong feels okay trying to call. Lets it go to voicemail and then waits a minute or two before the screen lights up again. Taeyong is smiling when he answers. "Hey, man. Where's the fire?"

"In my head, bro! I'm on a roll." Mark is talking way too loudly for a phone call in public. Taeyong hears someone flushing in the background. "I'm on fire! Oh my God, I'm so excited."

"I can tell." Taeyong stands up, stumbling a little around the room to grab his shit for the bathroom and heading out into the hallway. "What's up? You never call."

"Untrue! But whatever." Mark is grinning. Taeyong can literally hear Mark's smile over the phone. "I got in, man."

Taeyong yawns again. "Into what?"

"Did I not tell you?" Mark says after a moment, clearly stricken. " _Did I not tell you?_ "

" _You don't call me_ ," Taeyong says with emphasis, but he's laughing. "I'm assuming you're talking about a college program. Congratulations!" Although Mark has gotten into a couple of programs already, some of which are very tempting, so Taeyong waits for Mark to piece together what makes this one so special.

"No, man, I swear I told you — Oh my God, sorry." There's shuffling and the sound of water running. "I didn't realize anyone was in here."

"Are you in the bathroom?"

"I should have gone to the locker room but it was too far away." Mark huffs. "No, but I know I told you — that program my teacher gave me like super last minute? I was like, scrambling to get my essays together."

Mark had mentioned that when Taeyong went home, but honestly that seems like a quick turn over. Taeyong counts the days and it was only a little over three weeks ago. "That was fast."

"I actually applied late," Mark admits. "My teacher, the one who gave me the application, she knows people in the administration, so they had to pull some strings but like... _shit._ "

"If they're pulling strings just so you can apply, why wouldn't you think you were going to get in?" Taeyong laughs, setting his bag down on a dry spot on the sink and rubbing his face. He looks tired. What's new.

"Dude, because it's a program in _California_ maybe?" Mark's voice almost trembles, like the very concept of this program is more than he can process. For someone who has never been so far from home, maybe it is. "And thousands of people apply for it?"

"Oh, Mark. That's _awesome_." Taeyong leans his hip on the counter. "I haven't heard you so excited for any of the other schools."

"I'm really interested in this one." Mark's voice is surprisingly small. "But also...I don't know. It's a big leap."

"It's a big world," Taeyong says idly, picking at the treads of his sleep-shirt. "Or...as big as you want it to be."

Mark snorts. "Please don't give me life advice. Dad's been trying to talk to me about it for the past three months. Mom wants me to stay close to home, but..."

Taeyong smiles softly. It's weird; he's always thought of Mark as his baby cousin, even if they aren't so different in age. He's going off to college soon, taking big steps into a world he might not be ready for. Taeyong knows he wasn't, but Mark has a strange kind of grit to him. He's ambitious in ways Taeyong doesn't usually see in kids his age. "But what do you want to do?"

"I don't know." Mark makes a nervous sound in the back of his throat. Taeyong can barely hear it over the receiver. "You're right that it's a big world. It seems...small-minded to stay in my corner."

"You can stay close to home. You’re allowed," Taeyong points out. "I did."

"Sorry, Yong. I didn't mean to say it like it's bad."

"I know you didn't. I don't care much if you did." Taeyong looks at the bulletins taped to the mirror and doesn't see anything worth splitting his attention on. He looks so much older in his reflection than he did when he was applying for colleges, trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life. He wonders if Mark will feel this old in a couple of years, or if he'll be a baby forever. "This is a big opportunity, but it's a big step, too. Take it if you want it, but don't do it just because it's grand. You know?"

It's quiet over the line for a minute. "I know."

"Still." Taeyong lets himself beam with pride, just for a moment. "You haven't called me to tell me about any other programs you got into."

Warm. "I know."

Mark knows.

 

* * *

 

Time passes by quickly and life goes on, right on track, even if Taeyong feels like his clandestine meeting at the corner store changed something dramatically. Classes continue. He continues to have issues with his economics professor. Johnny continues to sit next to Taeyong in their shared class, even if they're both keeping up pretenses of being dutiful students.

"You drink too much coffee," Taeyong tells Johnny when he comes in with a Starbucks cup. He knows for a fact that Johnny made himself coffee that morning and probably drank the entire pot. More than that just seems excessive. "What are you going to do when your heart stops?"

"Rest," Johnny says soberly, taking a long sip.

On Thursday, Taeyong brings in a thermos of tea, like a nag. He feels foolish as he brews it in the morning — even more foolish when he's putting it in his bag — but the look on Johnny's face when he sets it down on his desk is worth it.

"It's not coffee," Taeyong warns him, too nervous to be stern, "so don't get too excited."

He watches, only mildly worried, as Johnny twists off the cap and takes a whiff. He'd brewed it stronger, fixed it up a little, but he knows tea is a deeply personal thing, so if Johnny doesn't like it Taeyong assures himself he won't be upset.

"Why wouldn't I be excited when I get a gift?" Johnny says incredulously, almost teasing, and he takes a tentative sip. His mouth drops open into a little _o_ , cute. Fake, but cute.

"Shut up," Taeyong says, pushing at Johnny's arm.

"Hey, hey." Johnny laughs. "I didn't say anything!"

Taeyong can tell his face is red. "Well." He sinks down in his seat. "Keep it that way."

Johnny looks like he's won something and maybe he has.

Halfway through lecture, Taeyong's computer pings, and he knows Johnny well enough that he isn't surprised when he sees that stupid email.

**To: Lee Taeyong (leety06@nct.edu)  
**From:** Seo Youngho (seoyh@nct.edu)**

The tea is good (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Best wishes,  
Johnny

 

Taeyong gives Johnny a look, but a smile simmers underneath. Even as Taeyong turns to look at him, Johnny is innocently taking a drink out of the thermos, like he was waiting for the opportune moment.

"You're dumb," Taeyong whispers.

"Some people are into that," Johnny replies, deadpan.

Taeyong plucks the thermos out of Johnny's hand pointedly.

It's mostly empty, so Taeyong doesn't feel bad, but a hand reaches into his vision and takes it back before he can put it away. Johnny bites his lips to stop himself from giggling. The professor watches them carefully; they're already on thin ice. Taeyong has descended from Model Student to Class Disruption, but he maintains that Johnny is worse — and a horrible influence.

"I'm not done."

"Sounds like a personal problem."

"Someone cute gave me a gift," Johnny says. "Let me have my moment."

Taeyong releases his hold on the tea, if only because he forgets how his body works. Johnny leaves class with it tucked under his arm. He smiles when he promises he'll wash it and bring it back. Taeyong doesn't even care.

Really, he doesn't.

 

* * *

 

Mina texts him Friday afternoon — _GET ME OFF CAMPUS PLS im dying!!!_ — and shows up at his dorm room three hours later with the promise of a greasy food court dinner.

"I'm going crazy," she says, and she looks it. Her ponytail is meticulously brushed, her outfit perfectly in place, but she's wearing her lazy pants and there's a frantic look behind her eyes. "I haven't been off campus in ten days. Look; my hands are shaking."

Taeyong laughs, taking a hold of her twitchy fingers. "I think that's just the caffeine in your system."

"I don't see why it can't be both." She takes a sip out of her bedazzled tumbler. Ilhoon had gotten it for her for Christmas last year. There are lipgloss smudges on the straw already. "Either way, my body is shutting down."

Taeyong pats down his pockets, makes sure he has his wallet, and shuts the door behind him. "On that note, let's go shopping."

Mina's car has been out of commission since the beginning of sophomore year, and Taeyong can't count how many times she's called one of them to take her to Walmart, or the movies, or the park, but Mina is the most extroverted of the three of them. It's almost a cruel joke that she's the one dependent on Ilhoon and Taeyong, but Taeyong can't really complain when it gets him out of the house.

It really has been a while since the two of them hung out. The three of them try to get lunch a few times a week, the college student's bare minimum, but Taeyong thinks he's still kind of hurt by things that should really matter. His feelings don't really have a focus so they just bleed out into the atmosphere, an unintended tension. Mina tries her best to talk over it, and Ilhoon is making conscious attempts to draw Taeyong into their circle, and Taeyong appreciates effort over all else, so he lets them.

He misses them, if he's being honest with himself.

Mina hops out of the car as soon as they park, throwing her bag over her shoulder and hooking her elbow with Taeyong's. "Where to first?"

Taeyong locks the car, beep beep, and matches her steps. "You're the one taking me on a date."

"If it's a date, then it's dinner for sure." She bounces, picks up her pace, and drags him towards the Panda Express.

Taeyong eats all of his orange chicken and some of Mina's in record time, but Mina barely stops to metabolize the carbs before she's cleaning off their table and pulling him into shop after shop. Taeyong has long since forgotten shame when it comes to shopping with her — one of his friends in high school had taken him lingerie shopping once and after that everything seems like peanuts.

Mina asks him to wait outside Victoria's Secret while she goes and picks out underwear — "It's on _sale_ " — and he does even though he doesn't care. He ends up holding the bag and he doesn't care about that either, because Mina buys him Auntie Anne's in exchange for being her caddy.

They duck into the shoe store; Taeyong needs new tennis shoes and Mina runs, so she knows more about arch support and tread and toe boxes than he does, and she doesn't even roll her eyes when he doesn't listen to her. He gets the pair she says are second best for him, because he likes the style more, and she charms the cashier while he pays.

It's a good day. Taeyong counts them on his fingers and realizes he's had more of them recently.

He's carrying three bags — one for his shoes, one for Mina's underwear, and a third one from the candy shop. Mina's got another bag full of clothes she doesn't need, and a shirt she insisted on buying Taeyong because she thinks he'd look nice in it. It's a day of small gestures.

Small gestures don't stop their feet from hurting, so Taeyong buys them Starbucks and they sit down on a bench in the middle of everything while they gather up the energy to call it a day.

"Taeyong!"

It's not Mina, because the voice is too deep, and they both stop chatting to find the source. Taeyong doesn't have any expectations, and yet someone he's still surprised to see Sehun and Johnny walking through the crowd towards them.

"Good or bad?" Mina asks, a little quietly, and Taeyong doesn't really understand what she's asking, until he realizes she's asking how he feels about talking to them.

"Both," he answers, because his brain can't process one or the other.

He can't remember the last time he saw the both of them in the same place. He can't think of a single time he's had a conversation with both of them at the same time, in the same room and not over texts. Even now, the threads that connect the two of them are charged — the usual relaxed slope of Johnny's shoulders is too tight, and Sehun's holding himself too tall to be considered at ease. They stand too far apart.

Taeyong purses his lips, but he waves anyway. "Hey! You guys know Mina?"

"We met at the party last month," Johnny says, and he smiles at her. He keeps his distance, if only because he's in danger of looming over them where they sit on their bench, but he puts his hand on Taeyong's shoulder and it's warm. Taeyong is warm all over. "We didn't get to talk much."

"It was an eventful night," Mina admits, and Taeyong wonders if it was eventful for them both for the same reasons. He never really talked about his conversation with Ilhoon with her, but he's never felt the need to — all his friends are gossips, and he has no doubt that she knows all the details.

Still, it's weird thinking that he never spoke with her about it. It's too late now. Taeyong supposes the moment has passed, all damage done and dealt with.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while," Sehun is saying, when Taeyong pulls himself out of his own head. "How have you been?"

"We still text and stuff," Taeyong points out, because they do. They rarely get past pleasantries anymore, but he does appreciate the effort to keep in touch. "This week has just passed by in a blur."

"Maybe for you," Mina retorts, taking a sip of her frappuccino. "I couldn't wait for it to end."

"Did you have tests?" Johnny asks, and lets Mina chatter away.

Taeyong is about to chime in, but Sehun seems like he's come here with a purpose and that purpose is talking to Taeyong. "I wasn't expecting to run into you but I'm glad I could see you."

"Me too," Taeyong says, even as his heart pounds a little in his chest. Sehun's eyes are so direct — Taeyong has never really gotten used to the weight of it. But he likes Sehun. "Sorry I've been a bit flaky."

"I get it," Sehun says with a shrug. "But I thought I'd invite you out anyway."

Something flutters. "Ah...like to get dinner again?"

"Like a real date," Sehun says, flushed. He's nervous. He looks as jittery as Taeyong suddenly feels. "There's an exhibit at the museum, the Contemporary, it's all about Pina Bausch and dance as an art form."

Taeyong can tell if his palms are sweaty or if it's condensation from his drink. He's oddly aware of Johnny, standing just to the side, still talking with Mina. Johnny is oddly aware of Taeyong in return, and he continues his conversation with Mina with a stiff jaw.

"Um..."

"Johnny just mentioned to me that you might like to go," Sehun admits, the final nail in the coffin.

It might be the first time Taeyong has truly seen Johnny look uncomfortable. He's not subtle in the way he looks at Taeyong, hovering between guilty and angry, but Taeyong doesn't want to dig any deeper than what he can see.

"He's right," Taeyong says, carefully neutral. "That sounds really cool. I would like to go."

Sehun breathes a sigh of relief. "Are you free on Sunday?"

He is. Taeyong doesn't have any plans other than the ones he pencils in with Sehun.

Taeyong just feels a bit lopsided.

Mina's foot bumps his leg, a casual comfort.

"Is something going on?" Taeyong asks Johnny, when Sehun is distracted enough buying a drink that it's like they're alone. "Between you and Sehun."

"Sort of," Johnny says, but he smiles. He leans into Taeyong's space, like he was waiting for permission. He knocks into Taeyong's knees playfully. "It's not a big deal. We live together. Stuff like that can be trying."

"Is that why you're not taking me to the museum yourself?" Taeyong asks, too bold. Bolder than he thinks he has any right to be.

Johnny blinks, scratches his neck. He looks nice today, blue sweater tucked into his jeans. Taeyong tries to decide whether he still wants to kiss him and finds the answer is yes. But Johnny is clearly thinking of more than just Taeyong. "Sehun really likes you," he says eventually.

Taeyong isn't sure whether he's grateful Sehun returns then or not. He doesn't know what to say, but he knows he needs to say it. His tongue twists trying to find the right words and comes up with empty air.

It doesn't end up getting said, whatever it is, and Taeyong watches the two of them wave and walk off further into the mall with his arms crossed, slumped in his seat.

"That was fun," Mina chirps, slurping at a drink that's long been finished. There's whipped cream on her lip that he taps off delicately with one finger. "Love that."

"Let's go home," Taeyong says, only slightly miserable.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong has a bunch of personal faults. He always overthinks some things and underthinks others. While he gets ready on Sunday, Taeyong wonders which one it is this time.

Usually he has Ten to smack sense into him, but Ten has been distracted recently and Taeyong doesn't particularly want to word vomit all over the place even when he knows Ten wouldn't mind. As it is, Ten is twittering over Taeyong's outfit, running his fingers through Taeyong's hair — "I can't remember the last time you went out for real," he's saying, tossing Taeyong another silk shirt. Taeyong doesn't know why Ten has so many silk shirts when he's in college and never needs to wear them. "This is a big moment."

It does kind of feel that way.

Ten adjusts the collar of the shirt and tucks some of Taeyong's hair behind his ear like a worried mother. "I wish you were happier about it."

"I'm excited to go," Taeyong says, and it's the truth. Dance as a museum installation isn't something you see every day.

"You've got your Sehun Face on again," Ten tells him, clicking his tongue. "But I don't know if you would have said no to him either."

"I like Sehun." A little hollow.

Ten hums. "He's a good guy." Oddly, it's Johnny's words that Taeyong hears in the echo of that — _Maybe it's just...not Sehun._ — "You don't owe him anything for that."

Taeyong smiles, putting his hands on Ten's shoulders. "I know that," he insists, gentle. "I promise."

It is a big moment. Taeyong knows that tonight is a big moment.

It's a bit of a drive to the museum, and Sehun knocks on the door not ten minutes later to pick him up. "You look..." He coughs. "You look really nice."

Taeyong smiles, small. "So do you." Sehun always looks nice. He's wearing a blazer and slacks. He looks older. His hair is swept back from his face and Taeyong really does think he's handsome. "You ready?"

They pass the drive with idle conversation, with Sehun admitting that he'd done some research on Pina Bausch before even inviting him, and that's oddly touching. Pressure mounts. Taeyong changes the subject.

As they pull up into the parking lot Taeyong finally stops to think about how much this event must cost. The museum itself is glowing, beautiful, and the installation is something incredibly special. There are dancers scattered around the exhibit, on platforms and on display like works of art.

"This is...kind of amazing," Sehun says, after a moment of silence.

"Yeah." Taeyong makes the decision to enjoy himself. "It kind of is."

 

* * *

 

It is a nice night, all things considered. Taeyong can't think of another time he's going to be as closely involved in dance as a spectator, and the attendees can be as involved as they like. Some of the people swirl around the edges, drink in hand, their eyes hazy. Some are shy. Some are haughty. Some of the dancers on exhibit teach moves to the dolled up guests, and Taeyong watches with lights in his eyes.

He doesn't mind business, enjoys it most days, but art is something that makes his heart race, like a wayward affair. He can accept that because it's beautiful.

In some ways it's a deeply personal experience, as he rifles through the photographs and posters and costumes, watches one dancer for a while before making his way across the hall to another. Sehun is there at not there, experiencing it for himself, but Taeyong is glad to have come, and twice as glad that he didn't come alone. There's so much happening that he feels a bit lost, and having Sehun there is grounding. He whispers comments in Taeyong's ear, just to make him laugh, and for once it's easy.

Talking with Sehun has never been easy. Taeyong wonders if the fact that he's made up his mind has made things easier. He wonders if he's cruel for having taken so long. Maybe it wouldn't have been the first time.

"Ten would love this," he says after a while. There's a woman wearing an evening gown in a glass box, arms moving gracefully like a flower in the wind. Her hair hangs in her face. Taeyong watches her so closely.

Sehun hums, one hand gently on Taeyong's waist. "Do _you_ like it?"

Taeyong can't stop himself from grinning. "It's awesome." He feels a little out of place, like this is too nice of place for him to be casually geeking out, but exhibits are meant to be appreciated. Even with his borrowed silk shirt and empty wallet he belongs here, because he wants to be here. "What about you?"

"I don't know much about concert dance," Sehun admits, watching the dancer in front of them closely. "Most of my experience is with street dance or competitions and shit, but..." He smiles at the dancer, at Taeyong. "I'm enjoying myself."

Taehyung hugs himself around the middle and lets himself enjoy the moment for what it is. Sehun's hand is warm around his waist but it doesn't bother him for once.

Sehun is a smart boy. Taeyong thinks they both have realized he's finally made up his mind.

"Thank you," Taeyong says sincerely, when the night is over and they're walking back out to the car. Sehun's hands are in his pockets. Taeyong's head is right on his shoulders. "I really liked tonight."

"Me too," Sehun says, and his eyes are so soft.

Taeyong kind of hates himself. "We should...talk...when we get back." It's a long drive back to campus.

Sehun sighs, hands still in his pocket, and his eyes are still soft but now they're looking anywhere but Taeyong's face. He opens the passenger side door and Taeyong makes no moves to get in. "Sure."

They both do their best on the way home. Sehun talks about the woman he saw almost bite the dust because she was staring so hard at a male dancer, and Taeyong tries his best not to let the anxiety grab him by the neck. Sehun has always tried so hard for him.

Sehun parks in front of Taeyong's door and leaves the car running. It's too quiet. Taeyong wants to hold his breath but forces himself to breathe anyway. "I really did have a good time tonight," he says eventually.

"Not a good enough time?" Sehun asks, teasing.

"I..." Taeyong huffs awkwardly. He feels a bit twitchy, like he has too many bones and can't remember how to make them all work in tandem. "I just don't think...I'm being fair...to you."

Sehun licks his lips, buying time, and sits back in his seat. His hands stay in his lap. He doesn't look surprised, and Taeyong thinks that makes things easier and harder all at once, because Sehun knows it's the truth and Taeyong hates himself for it. "Is there something I could have done?"

"I don't think so," Taeyong tells him, even if it hurts. "But you also kind of reached out to me at a bad time." Taeyong can admit that to himself now. "You...you made me think a lot harder about what I wanted and why I wanted it. So I really...should thank you for that." He grimaces. "Even though I know that's not what you want to hear."

For a moment, Sehun just watches his face. It's too much to say that he looks heart-broken, because Taeyong don't think he ever fell in love — why would he, when Taeyong kept him at an arm's length? — but he's bitter. Taeyong can see that he's bitter.

"Is it Johnny?" he asks, a little spiteful. "What you want — it's him?"

Taeyong bites back his immediate response. He wants to rest his head against the cool glass of the window and fall asleep, but he knows Sehun deserves more than for him to withdraw. Taeyong made a decision and he has to stick to it, even if it hurts. "I never felt that way about you. I just didn't tell you when I should have."

Sehun swallows something down; Taeyong wonders if it's that bitterness. "I really like you, Taeyong," he says eventually.

"I know," Taeyong says. His legs bounce nervously. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner that I didn't feel the same. I just..."

"Just what?"

"Thought you deserved a chance," Taeyong tells him. It's not a balm on the wound, but it's the truth. "You're a good guy. You did everything right. I...tried really hard." He takes a shaky breath, holds his head in his hands. "God, I tried really hard."

This isn't about Taeyong. It's not even really about Sehun. It's about the both of them, together, and how things should have clicked that never did, and both of them know it's the truth.

"I don't regret spending time with you," Taeyong says. "No one has ever tried as hard to get through to me. You don't deserve me stringing you along."

"Maybe I just didn't try hard enough," Sehun thinks aloud.

Taeyong's mouth is a thin line. "You did." It just wasn't meant to be.

It sucks, that Taeyong is ruining what would have been a good night, but this is the plainest he's ever spoken with Sehun. It also sucks that Taeyong has been so on edge all the time, because Sehun is a nice guy and wouldn't have cared if Taeyong showed the uglier parts of himself. It sucks that Taeyong wasn't prepared to give him that. A puzzle piece that should fit but can't quite manage it, and now Taeyong is looking at it and sees that it's from a completely different picture. That's neither of their faults.

Even if it feels like it's Taeyong's.

It's a long walk up the sidewalk, up the stairs, leaving the night behind, and when he opens the door Ten is still awake, sprawled out on his bed. "How was it?" he asks, watching Taeyong toss his keys on the desk and take off his shoes.

Taeyong thinks he might be crying, just a little. "It was good."

It was. It was good for him.

Ten doesn't ask any questions as he closes his laptop and climbs down the ladder, and when Taeyong returns from getting ready for bed Ten is on Taeyong's bed, playing games on his phone. Heart open to receive as much or as little as Taeyong is ready to give him.

"I don't deserve you," Taeyong says decisively, flopping onto the mattress.

"No one does," Ten replies. His feet are cold against Taeyong's bare legs. He hogs the blanket. He wipes off a stray tear with the sleeve of his shirt and Taeyong laughs. "Do I have to kill anyone?"

"Yes, me." Taeyong sighs through a smile. "I'm the worst."

"You can cry if you want to," Ten says. "I'm not going to clean up your snot or anything but like, sometimes you have to make room for other feelings. Like emotional pruning."

"Don't try to sound wise," Taeyong chastises. "I'm not going to cry." Any more. "I'm just the worst."

Ten is quiet for a moment. "I take it you won't be seeing Sehun again?"

"Not like that." Maybe when they're on even ground. "Is it bad that I'm relieved?"

"No." Ten flicks him on the nose. "Just means you made the right decision."

 

* * *

 

**Johnny**

Hey I'm sorry about the other day

???  
What do you mean???

At the mall

Mmm  
What did you do?

I just felt like I fucked up a little

Lmao okay  
I'll forgive you I guess

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

 

* * *

 

Taeyong goes through the week feeling lighter than he has in a while. That's the funny thing about anxiety, maybe, how pervasive it is in subtle ways. But all that says to Taeyong is that he knew his conversation with Sehun was coming, and that he should have done it sooner.

It's a bit odd with Johnny too, when he sees him in class on Tuesday. Taeyong supposes that's normal, considering that he and Sehun are friends and Sehun probably isn't Taeyong's biggest fan at the moment, but something about it sits wrong. It's like Johnny wants to say something and doesn't. That's unlike him, as someone who almost prides themselves on not having a filter. Taeyong isn't used to being the one who has to pull, but he does his best.

Johnny brings Taeyong tea on Thursday and it feels a bit like an apology, even if Taeyong doesn't think it's necessary.

It's funny, because last week Taeyong kissed Johnny and it was fine, but now it's awkward and Taeyong isn't sure why. He still wants to kiss Johnny, when he lets himself think about it, and he's pretty sure Johnny wants to kiss him too. Anything other than that is just white noise between them.

Taeyong tells himself it will clear up eventually. For now he tries to let himself breathe. He hasn't done that in so long.

Ten is also exploring new emotional territory. When he tells Taeyong he has a date, it's more shocking than anything.

"Are you excited?" Taeyong asks, because Ten looks a little bit like he's going to throw up. Taeyong wonders if that's what he looked like while getting ready to go to the museum and pities Ten for having to put up with him.

Ten's expression is grim as he puts gloss on his mouth. "If I don't fuck him tonight, I quit."

It's funny; Taeyong has known Ten for a few years and can't think of a single time he went on an actual date. He just wasn't the type. Ten thrives in low-commitment relationships, if only because that's where he's the most comfortable. "Is this the guy from the party?" Taeyong asks carefully.

"Yes," Ten says, clipped.

Taeyong grins. "He texted you back."

"We've been talking more." Ten frowns, but there's red high on his cheeks. "He's annoying."

"Mhmm."

"I hate him." His hands shake as he does his hair.

"You deserve to have a nice night," Taeyong says, hooking his chin on Ten's shoulder. "You should let yourself enjoy the company."

"Sounds terrifying," Ten says mildly.

Taeyong hums again. "Maybe it is."

Ten and Taeyong are too similar.

It's a casual night. They've gone out drinking before, which is Ten's territory, but when Ten says that they're going out for dinner it's surprising. "He wants to spend time with you."

"I hate that." Ten snaps his compact shut. "I don't like people who are high maintenance."

" _You're_ high maintenance."

"Exactly." Ten laughs. "Two of us is just too much."

Taeyong thinks about speaking his mind — someone wanting to spend time with you doesn't make them high maintenance — but he knows that Ten knows that already. Between the two of them, Ten has always been better at reading people's intentions. It's why he's good at going for what he wants, and why he's able to avoid the things he doesn't. Taeyong's always thought that was an admirable trait.

Now, it seems like it's breaking Ten up, hairline fractures.

Ten covers them up with BB cream. "You might want to find somewhere to go tonight."

Taeyong smiles. "I can do that."

It's not until he waves Ten goodbye that he realizes that's easier said than done. The last time he'd gone to Sehun's house, and even though that had worked out at the time there's clearly too much between them now to take advantage, even if Sehun would agree to it. Johnny would of course say yes, even if things are weird, but that seems like a cruel position to put all three of them in.

Taeyong texts Ilhoon.

Ilhoon says yes.

Taeyong can't decide whether he's surprised or not.

A couple months ago, Ilhoon would have been his first choice when it came to finding an alternate home for the night. Taeyong knows exactly when things got complicated.

Still, Ilhoon opens his door with open arms, an easy smile, and it's almost like the past few weeks haven't happened, if Taeyong can ignore the weird twinge of trepidation as he crosses the boundary line.

"Ten always gets what he wants," Ilhoon says, when Taeyong tells him about their conversation earlier. "Maybe it's time someone tested him a little."

Taeyong laughs. "Valid, but that doesn't mean he has to like it." Although Taeyong really thinks he does.

Ilhoon looks a million times better than the last time they were alone together. He doesn't smell like alcohol, and his eyes are brighter. Sometimes his expression is too far away, but Taeyong can see him trying to pull himself back down.

They first became friends because they both needed Mina, and then they became friends because they were similar in other ways. Taeyong thinks too much and Ilhoon thinks too little, but both have a bad habit of hurting themselves because they think that they should. There's some kind of solidarity in that.

Taeyong is always happy when Ilhoon pulls himself out of those places. He wishes he could have been there to help him through whatever it was, but he knows that he wouldn't have done any good.

He's not sure whether the voice in his head telling him it's his fault is the dark part of his heart or if it's just the truth.

Still, he loves Ilhoon, and he really has missed him. There are times where it's easy, when both of them decide to stop being difficult. They play Mario Kart and shit talk the rest of the student body. Ilhoon Airdrops Taeyong memes when he leaves to go to the bathroom. They spam Mina when she doesn't answer their texts.

"We haven't hung out in so long," Taeyong whines. "Ten should have sex more often."

"Please don't tell him that." Ilhoon laughs. "He doesn't need the encouragement."

"It's actually been a few weeks." Unless Ten just hasn't told him, which is possible, his last conquest was Lucas. "Maybe he's ready to settle down." The thought is absurd.

Ilhoon gets a far off look in his eyes. "You and Ten both settling down...this year is wild."

Taeyong laughs, slapping him on the knee. They're both sitting on the bed. The screen is paused, Taeyong's abysmal score on display like a piece of art. "Who exactly am I settling down with?"

"I know you said you aren't seeing Sehun," Ilhoon teases, "but I know for a fact that he took you out last weekend. Deny it."

"I would never." Taeyong makes a face, eyes glittering. "He did. It was nice. But I think that was the last of it."

Ilhoon smiles, a little softly. His fingers pick at the strings on his comforter. He's had the same one since freshman year and it's seen better days. "Not as perfect as people say?"

"Oh, he is." Taeyong sighs. "Maybe just not for me."

"That's okay," Ilhoon says. "I...I know that I said some shit, but...you don't need to do anything if you don't want to."

It's the most Taeyong has gotten from him in the form of an apology. It still seems a bit stilted. Taeyong isn't sure what it is about Sehun that sets Ilhoon off, but it's clear that he's trying to set it aside.

"I don't regret it." Taeyong swallows. "It opened me up to some other things."

Ilhoon is watching him carefully. "What kind of things?"

Taeyong sighs. "I don't know. I started talking with someone else but..." He shakes his head.

"Someone else?"

"Johnny Seo," Taeyong admits, holding his face. Just thinking about is making his cheeks heat up. "Which is stupid because they're roommates and friends and shit, but. I don't know. He's really sweet."

Ilhoon looks shocked. "I...huh."

"I didn't really tell anyone other than Ten." Taeyong sighs. "But the stuff with Sehun just didn't feel right."

"And Johnny feels right?" Ilhoon's voice is weird. Taeyong watches him closely.

"Yeah," Taeyong says. Really thinks about it. "Yeah, he does. But I guess there's more to a relationship than whether it feels right or not."

Ilhoon is quiet. He's quiet for a while, lost in thought, and Taeyong pretends like it's not his fault, and Ilhoon comes back into himself.

Pieces are fitting together and Taeyong doesn't like the picture it makes, but there's nothing he can do about it other than keep going.

 

* * *

 

**Tennie**

we're all clear

You're up early lmao

couldn't sleep

Everything okay?

yep  
it's been a weird night lmao  
bring me snacks when you come back pls ^^

You really are the worst

 

* * *

 

"How was it?" Taeyong asks when he gets back to the room, an echo of last week, only Ten seems normal and not like he'd been crying, which is always a good sign.

His roommate pulls an earbud out and hums in the back of his throat. "Weird," he admits. There's a huge hickey on the side of his neck. Whoever this guy is, he's giving Ten a run for his money. "But successful. How was staying with Ilhoon?"

"Weird." Taeyong says it quietly, guiltily. "I told him about Johnny."

Ten sucks on his teeth. "What about Johnny?"

"Just that we've been talking," Taeyong admits. "There's not much more to tell, honestly, but." It still feels like something worth saying.

"What did Ilhoon say?" Ten's face is doing that neutral thing, and it's confirmation that there's more happening behind the scenes than Taeyong has been privy to. He supposes he's foolish, to not have realized it sooner, but the brain is a funny thing when it doesn't want to notice things.

"He was quiet but he didn't like, do anything." Taeyong pauses. "Why do I feel like I shouldn't have told him?"

Ten smiles thinly. "It's not like you should be hiding it either."

Taeyong thinks that's the most fair he can be with himself.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong walks into lecture on Tuesday and everything is normal for the five minutes until the professor starts talking and Johnny still isn't there.

It's not like either of them have ever skipped class before, but usually Johnny will tell him he isn't going to be there. Not that he has to. Johnny doesn't owe him anyway. Taeyong purses his lips and brings the tea he brought for Johnny by himself.

He waits about fifteen minutes, kind of waiting for Johnny to stumble in, late and unkept, but it doesn't happen.

Subtly, Taeyong pulls out his phone — _Johnny! Where are you?_

He doesn't get an answer until he's walking out of class.

**Johnny**

Oh my god I'm so sorry!!  
I totally slept through class  
MISSED TAEYONG OPPORTUNITY :((((

Shut up  
I hate you

Fair  
Did you miss me?

Why would you ask me that

You're right I know you did~

♥

WAIT  
Omg  
♥♥♥

 

Taeyong really does hate him.

He kind of misses Johnny. School kept them busy over the weekend and they haven't seen each other since Thursday, which is reason enough to miss him, but there's still something bothering Taeyong, like there's a distance neither of them are certain how to cross. Taeyong isn't even sure if it's his fault or not. He could say that it started when he ended things with Sehun officially, but even if Johnny apologized for whatever he was apologizing for at the mall, that doesn't change that it happened. Taeyong can guess what caused it, but he doesn't know for sure unless he asks.

Something makes him very, very hesitant to ask.

Missing Johnny really cuts down on his interpersonal interaction for the week. Taeyong hadn't realized how much he looked forward to seeing him, even in a minimal capacity, but it has him twitchy. He sees Ten all the time, Mina has classes, Ilhoon has been distant, so when he sees Jaehyun in the quad he decides to go over and say hello.

Since they first sat down, Jaehyun has become an unobtrusive presence — they'll text occasionally, chat if they see each other, gossip like old women in the dance studios. It's nice having a low commitment kind of friend, especially one as easy-going as Jaehyun.

Jaehyun pats the ground beside him and Taeyong delicately sits down, or tries to, before his knees give out and he sits in the grass with a thunk. "What's up?" Jaehyun asks, while Taeyong accepts his new home in the dirt.

"Absolutely nothing," Taeyong replies, and it's mostly honest. "I'm so bored."

"I'm boring." Jaehyun laughs. "You want some Cheetos?" He holds out an opened and half-empty bag.

Taeyong does in fact want Cheetos, and helps himself. "You're less boring than most of my classes."

Jaehyun makes a face. "Low bar."

"Low bar," Taeyong agrees, but he laughs brightly, sprinkling Cheeto dust amongst the flowers. "Lecture was extra boring today."

"I'm assuming Johnny didn't show up." Jaehyun wipes his fingers on his pants and keeps flipping idly through his textbook. "He was a wreck last night."

Taeyong's nerves fray. "What do you mean?"

Jaehyun blinks. "He was up sick all night," he says, and then he sees the look on Taeyong's face. "Nothing serious. I think just like, a stomach bug? But it was gross." He shivers.

Taeyong processes that. "He didn't say anything to me." Even when Taeyong had texted him, Johnny hadn't mentioned feeling ill at all. _Overslept, my ass._

"He was kind of busy throwing up." For what it's worth, Jaehyun seems unbothered. "He wasn't feeling great this morning either, but I'm sure he'll text you about it later. He loves to complain."

Johnny never complains to Taeyong. Even when Taeyong asks about his obvious tension with Sehun he'd still been passive about it. Is it because it's Taeyong? Does Johnny just not want to worry him? "He's been kind of weird lately, actually."

Jaehyun watches Taeyong carefully. "Don't think about this too much." His voice is even. "It was a really sudden thing. It's not like he's been hiding it from you."

"No, I know." Taeyong really does. Johnny doesn't need to share his entire life with Taeyong; honestly, Taeyong doesn't know if he could handle that. "Just...I don't know."

"He hasn't said anything to me," Jaehyun says. His fingers have stilled on the page of his book. "I don't know if that makes you feel better."

Taeyong picks at the grass. "Kind of."

Jaehyun laughs. "Seriously, I can hear your brain smoking."

"It's not!" Taeyong covers his ears, like it'll stop the steam from rising. "I'm not."

"Johnny is a simple guy." It's reassuring, or Jaehyun seems to think so. "If he's being weird he'll get over it."

Taeyong huffs. "Well." He crossed his arms over his chest. "We can't _both_ be weird."

"Are _you_ being weird?"

"Yes." Taeyong laughs. "I'm like...I have no idea what's going on." He wants to talk to Johnny but also isn't certain he should. Johnny has given him little reason to feel awkward around him — almost no reason at all, other than being handsome and charming — but Taeyong still feels like there's something preventing him for taking a true step forward.

Jaehyun snorts. "You deserve each other."

Taeyong throws a fistful of grass in Jaehyun's face.

 

* * *

 

Johnny is a simple guy, and that makes Taeyong's decision a simple one.

He goes to Walmart.

About halfway through grocery shopping he thinks about texting Johnny and asking if he has a crockpot, but also why would Johnny have a crockpot? Taeyong's crockpot is at home with his mother after sitting dusty in their dorm for the first six months of his college career. It's fine. Taeyong doesn't need a crockpot.

He drives to Johnny's house.

It's a simple decision, although maybe not a well thought out one.

Sehun opens the door and sees Taeyong on their porch, laden withgroceries. Taeyong's hands shake. He has to look up to look Sehun in the eye, and it's not exactly a friendly expression on his face — if anything, it's resignation. Taeyong would rather he be angry. "Johnny?"

"Um," Taeyong replies, dumbly. So dumb. "I'll make dinner."

Sehun purses his mouth. His t-shirt has a stain on it and it makes him seem mildly less perfect, but the way his eyebrows are knit still makes Taeyong want to run and hide. He has to remind himself that Sehun was never anything but kind to him. Even in the car after the museum, he still gave more than Taeyong was probably due.

He steps aside and lets Taeyong inside.

The house is cleaner than the last time Taeyong was here, although there's a basket of unfolded laundry sitting on the couch, overflowing, and there's a sink of dishes in the kitchen. Taeyong sets his bags down on the counter, and when he turns around Sehun is standing in the doorway. "Does Johnny know you're coming?"

"Uh. No." Taeyong sighs. "I just...he didn't tell me he was sick."

"He's been sleeping most of the day." Sehun is sucking on his teeth, looking at stains in the old wallpaper. "He's upstairs." And then he's gone.

Maybe it shouldn't have been a simple decision. Sehun doesn't want him here, maybe Johnny doesn't want him here, and now with the prospect of having to go into Johnny's room and talk to him, Taeyong is having second thoughts. Something feels like it's looming, an oppressive force on Taeyong's chest. This is stupid. He really went all the way to Walmart and back without thinking about how weird it is to just show up and cook dinner.

It's not really that weird. Taeyong used to do it all the time in high school for his friends. He's done it for Mina and Ten both before. Inviting himself over is a little embarrassing, but he doesn't think Johnny is the sort of person to care. Sehun cares probably, but still let him inside. Taeyong is just nervous, filled to the brim with something complicated and corrosive.

He heads towards Johnny's room anyway.

Taeyong pauses, catches his breath before his knuckles rap on the closed door, and there's a mumbled sound coming from inside, a sleepy _come in_ and the rustling of bedsheets. Tentative, Taeyong turns the knob and opens the door.

Johnny's room smells like sleep more than anything, that heavy scent of a room that's been lived in, mixed with deodorant and something just human. The lamp on Johnny's bedside is on, but it's not strong enough to light the whole room, and Johnny himself is sitting up against the headboard, tapping away at his computer. His chest is bare. Taeyong supposed that's fair, when the room is so warm. He's tied his hair up out of his face as well as he can, the little pony tail sticking up. It's cute.

Taeyong has never been in Johnny's room before. He was invited once. He said no.

It's tidier than Taeyong would have expected, a pair of pants on the floor and nothing else, and cute knickknacks are lined up single file on the windowsill. There's a Tigger plushie hanging off a shelf next to a picture of Johnny and Jaehyun, and then another of Johnny and two people who must be his parents. Taeyong doesn't look at anything too closely. He doesn't feel like he belongs here.

"Who was at the door?" Johnny asks. His voice is soft, softer than normal, and thick. His eyes haven't left his computer screen.

"Me," Taeyong answers, hand still on the doorknob.

Johnny's eyes flick to him, so sharply it takes Taeyong's breath away, and Johnny stares at him dumbly for at least four seconds before he seems to process the person in his doorway. "Oh my God." He covers his face with his hands, never mind his chest. "I thought you were Sehun. Don't look at me."

"I like your hair," Taeyong says, instead of saying something normal like a normal person.

Johnny whines. Taeyong's heart stutters.

It's oddly tense and it's all on Taeyong's part. "I heard you were sick."

"I think I had like, bad food or...I don't know." Johnny clears his throat, looking at Taeyong through the cracks in his fingers before running his hand down his face. He looks tired. "I was puking all night. Not very fun."

"You didn't say anything." It's not exactly an accusation, because there are plenty of reasons why Johnny might not have told Taeyong. "I had to hear from Jaehyun."

Johnny blinks at him. "I didn't want you to worry."

Taeyong chews on the inside of his cheek. "I worried anyway. I guess."

Oddly enough, that makes Johnny smile. "I won't say I don't appreciate the company." Even ill, he still looks at Taeyong with stars in his eyes. Taeyong's chest threatens to collapse. "Although..." He shakes something off.

"I brought stuff to make soup," Taeyong admits after a moment. "My dad used to make it when I wasn't feeling well. It's the only thing he can cook."

Johnny is grinning now. "You're going to make me dinner?"

"If you want." Taeyong coughs awkwardly. "But like, I already bought the stuff. So."

"Please make me dinner."

Taeyong laughs. He hasn't stepped further into the room, still hovering in the doorway, but Johnny doesn't seem bothered that he's there, and that's enough to take some weight off of Taeyong's shoulders. "I'll be back, then."

Something darker flashes in Johnny's eyes. "Let me know if Sehun says anything."

Honestly, Taeyong doesn't think Sehun is the type. "What are you going to do?" he asks, smiling. "Puke on him?"

"Did that already," Johnny replies, too mild. "But I'll do it on purpose this time if necessary."

It's a sweet thought. "I'll let you know." He bites his lip. "Stay in bed, okay? I'll bring it in when it's done."

"You don't have to. I can come help." Johnny shuts his laptop with finality.

"I like cooking." Taeyong shakes his head. "Just tell me where your pots are."

He heads back down to the kitchen five minutes later, full of bubbles, overflowing.

 

* * *

 

Sehun walks into the kitchen around the time Taeyong stirs in the vegetables. The room smells the garlic and ginger, the chicken cooking slowly. Taeyong looks over his shoulder when he hears someone enter, fully expecting it to be Johnny and fully prepared to tell him to go back to bed. When he sees Sehun there instead, watching him cook, it's almost a shock.

"Do you need any help?" Sehun asks after a moment of silence.

Taeyong smiles at him, tight. "I'm almost done, actually." Cooking is soothing for him; the process of it has slowed the shaking of his hands and bled out the jitters, and now he just feels hesitant. "I make this recipe a lot. It's easy."

Sehun hums, deep in the back of his throat, and Taeyong waits for him to say whatever he's gearing himself up for. "Can't we talk?"

"If you want," Taeyong answers. He doesn't want to, but he did come into Sehun's space unannounced, and he's not sure it'd be fair of him to refuse.

"Did I pressure you?"

It's a loaded question, one that could have a lot of different answers. Taeyong focuses on stirring, processes. "Not really." He sighs. There were a lot of things involved in his decision with Sehun; unfortunately, very few of them had to do with Sehun himself. "If I say the whole, like...it's not you, it's me...would that be unfair to you?"

"I mean, it's not what I want to hear," Sehun admits, clenching his jaw. "But if it's how you feel..."

This isn't a conversation Taeyong had prepared himself for having today, but it's as good a time as any, and Sehun is Johnny's roommate. For that reason only, this is a conversation that needs to happen. Taeyong swallows his flight response and turns the burner on low. "Maybe I was...pressured, but it wasn't your fault." Taeyong hums. "It wasn't you."

Sehun's mouth is a thin line. Taeyong looks at his body language because his eyes are heartbroken and Taeyong doesn't know how to deal with that. "It feels like it was."

Taeyong shrugs. "It wasn't."

"Johnny and I have talked about you."

Taeyong's reaction isn't good. The words are ominous, almost outright terrifying. He looks at Sehun, fearful. "I'm not sure...how I feel about that." Panic crawls up his throat.

"It's not like we didn't know we were both talking to you, Taeyong," Sehun says, and it's tired. "It wouldn't have been fair to try and hide it."

That's true. Taeyong sets the cutting board in the sink and starts loading the dirty coffee cups into the dish washer while the soup finishes on the stove.

"I wish you'd opened up to me the way you did to him," Sehun says, hurt. "Maybe I could have done better."

"You couldn't help that the timing was wrong," Taeyong tells him. "My brain..." He huffs, frustrated. The mug slips from his hand back into the sink and he curses under his breath at the clatter. "Maybe I'm more open with Johnny," — and he has been, since that first night Taeyong spent here — "but that doesn't mean it's easy. I'm not the kind of person that deals with these things well. It's not your fault I wasn't ready."

"It hasn't been that long since we started talking," Sehun says evenly, harsh underneath it all but pushing it down. Taeyong appreciates his mild temper, but it feels like a spring coiled to fire. "You slept with me but you weren't ready? And now you're ready for Johnny? What am I supposed to think?"

Taeyong doesn't think he's ready for Johnny. Taeyong doesn't think he's ready for anything.

He takes his time, fishes the mug out of the sink against and sets it in the dish washer, rinses off the cutting board, and Sehun gives him the time to find the words. Taeyong can't blame him for being angry. And it's not like Taeyong gave Sehun the tools to see the whole picture.

"I was a virgin," he says eventually, taking the soup off the burner. "When we slept together. It was my first time."

Sehun stares at him, jaw working. Eyes dark. "You didn't tell me."

Taeyong shrugs. He was pressured in a lot of ways, but the decision was his own. He can't blame Sehun for that. "The minute I said yes to you that first time..." He swallows. "It was never going to work."

He tried. He tried his hardest, as well as he knew how.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sehun asks, voice cracking. "That wasn't fair to you. I wouldn't have done things that way if I knew." He balls his hands into fists. "Was it...was it even consensual?"

"It was consensual," Taeyong says plainly. "It was just a mistake."

It's harsh, when Taeyong thinks about it, but maybe the truth is what Sehun needs instead of mercy.

"I don't regret sleeping with you," — at least not completely — "but I regret everything I did afterwards. I should have said something, but I didn't know how, and I thought maybe it was worth it to keep trying, but I hurt you." Taeyong braces himself on the sink. There's a small aloe plant there. He flicks water on it. "So I'm sorry."

There are footsteps, a gentle knock on the wall like a warning, and then Johnny is standing there. He's taken his hair out of the ponytail, tugged on a sweatshirt, and he hovers in the entry way like he's prepared for anything. "Is everything okay?" he asks. Taeyong thinks it's directed towards himself, but his eyes are on Sehun.

Everything is fine, Taeyong thinks, even if Sehun is staring daggers at his roommate and Johnny is returning it full force. "Didn't I tell you to stay in bed?" Taeyong says eventually, turning back to his dinner.

"I heard voices."

Taeyong sighs. "We were just chatting." He looks at Johnny over his shoulder. "Where are the bowls?"

It's Sehun that replies. Or rather, he walks over and opens up the cabinet.

Taeyong takes the proffered bowl wordlessly, ladles out a portion of soup and hands it to Johnny pointedly. "Back to bed," he tells him, and Johnny takes the bowl with both hands. He looks like a big baby, all bed head and broad shoulders, and his harsh expression doesn't suit his face.

"Thank you," he mumbles, flushed, and follows orders.

It's easy enough to be bold when it's called for, but Taeyong's breath shakes as he gets another bowl and pours himself a portion. The ladle clinks against ceramic and he spills some on the counter before wiping it up with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I can do the dishes," Sehun says, an apology.

"Thank you," Taeyong replies.

He pours a third bowl and leaves it on the counter, an acceptance.

Johnny is sitting on his bed, ramrod straight, when Taeyong goes back to his room.

"Are you gonna eat or are you just gonna stare at it?" Taeyong asks, closing the door behind him. Two steps and it's the further he's ever been into Johnny's territory. In that way, they're uneven, with Johnny allowing Taeyong into his spaces and Taeyong bringing parts of himself over, bit by bit, like he's living out of a suitcase.

Johnny smiles at him, bright and open. "Thank you for dinner."

Taeyong isn't sure where to sit, but Johnny is already scooting over on the bed, so Taeyong takes it as an invitation and sits beside him. "Eat."

"Yessir."

Taeyong watches him carefully take the first bite, gauges his reaction, sees the lights spark in Johnny's eyes, and starts eating with a grin.

"It's good," Johnny says in awe.

"Thanks." Taeyong hums around his spoon. "It always makes me feel better, when I'm sick."

"I've felt better today," Johnny admits, but he says it through a mouthful. It's clear he's starving. "I'm just...you know, after effects." He pouts. "And no coffee."

"You're seriously telling me you didn't try to drink coffee this morning."

"I tried," Johnny says darkly. "It went poorly."

Taeyong laughs, crossing his bare feet underneath himself on Johnny's bed. The soup is warm, not as good as when his mother makes it but better than when his father does. It reminds him of home. Despite feeling awkward in this room, certain things feel right. Johnny feels right, even if there's things that aren't clear. "This is easy on your stomach. And there's plenty."

"You're a god." Johnny shovels food into his mouth.

Taeyong slumps against Johnny's headboard. It smells like Johnny's cologne. "I like the sound of that." Happy.

Easy, even when it's not. Whatever that means. He's anxious and bubbling over and it's still easy.

Taeyong thinks he values that the most.

Taeyong's sideways, his feet brushing against Johnny's thigh, and there's the clinking of spoons and the hum of the fan and the smell of sleep and it's easy.

"So," Johnny says, after his soup is finished. He eats much faster than Taeyong does, but also he hasn't eaten much over the past 24 hours. Taeyong supposes he can let it slide, this once. "You broke it off with Sehun?"

In Taeyong's mind, there wasn't much to break off until after he did it, watching the waves in the water. But yes — "I did."

Johnny sucks on his spoon, teeth on metal. "Was there any particular reason for that?"

Taeyong looks at Johnny, inspects his profile, and he knows where this is going. It makes him bold. Johnny makes him bold. "Was there any particular reason why you encouraged me to go out with him?"

"I thought it would make you happy," Johnny replies.

Taeyong looks at him, keeps looking, ever softer. "No, you didn't."

Johnny sighs, dropping the spoon into the empty bowl and leaning back on his hands. "No, I didn't."

It's a waiting game, then, for Johnny to explain or for Taeyong to ask.

"He..."Johnny huffs, reaching over and setting his bowl on the bedside table. His arm brushes Taeyong's knees, and when Johnny leans back again he's inched closer. "He likes you so much. God."

"I mean, he's mad at me at the moment." It's not funny. Taeyong laughs anyway.

"No, like..."Johnny squints at the ceiling fan. "He likes you so much. I haven't seen him try to pursue someone like that in years."

"I don't deserve it," Taeyong says honestly. The bowl burns into the skin of his hands, and he sets it aside, too. "I knew what he was doing, but it still confused me."

Johnny looks at Taeyong incredulously. "You shouldn't say that about yourself," he says after a moment, and his hand hovers over Taeyong's ankle before tangling in the sheets. "You're amazing. It...we never fight. But we fought over you."

It should be more surprising. "I thought as much." It still makes Taeyong's stomach churn. "That's not what I wanted."

"Bad timing, I guess." Johnny understands.

Taeyong nudges Johnny with his sock feet. "You were there when I needed you."

Johnny smiles at him. He's really handsome, Taeyong thinks, even in the shitty lighting, even after he's gotten no sleep, even when he's sad. "You never needed me."

"Have you brushed your teeth?" Taeyong asks, too sudden.

"Uh." Johnny laughs, bemused. "Yes?"

Taeyong kisses him.

It's the same in all the ways that matter. His stomach flips, his heartbeat is rapid, and Johnny leans in closer even when he's surprised. The angle is awkward, and Taeyong pulls away just to reorganize himself, to get closer. Johnny follows his mouth in a daze, and when Taeyong's hands are free he allows himself to be pulled in. Taeyong curls his fingers in the too-long hair at the back of Johnny's neck. He kisses the curl of Johnny's mouth, sweet.

He's always liked kissing.

He loves kissing Johnny.

The sound Johnny makes, oh, and way he lets Taeyong do what he wants. The way he trusts Taeyong in a way Taeyong doesn't even trust himself.

Johnny's mouth is soft, his hands are soft, the sounds are soft. He's soft. Taeyong is vibrating out of his skin. He likes Johnny. Foundation shaken. "Fuck," he mutters against Johnny's cheek, terrified. "Why are you so good?"

Gentle, Johnny brushes Taeyong's hair out of his face. "I think you inspire that in people."

"Don't give me credit for your being you," Taeyong huffs, breathless. "No one has ever been as good as you."

"False." Johnny's palm cups Taeyong's jaw.

Without thought, Taeyong closes his eyes and leans into the touch, truly in Johnny's hands. His fingers wrap around Johnny's wrist. The thumb stroking his cheek is welcome.

"You've been weird this week," he mumbles, plain.

"I was upset about you going with Sehun to the museum," Johnny says quietly. "And I was upset at myself for not saying something at the mall. My own fault."

"Don't do it again." Taeyong swallows. When he opens his eyes Johnny is staring at his throat. "We can't both be stupid."

Johnny laughs. "Also false." He kisses Taeyong's nose.

"I hate you," Taeyong says, voice thick. He wants to kiss him again. "I don't know what to do with you." The naked truth.

"I know." Johnny takes a deep breath and pulls away, even though neither of them want him to. "That's okay."

"See?" Taeyong grins. He flicks Johnny's shoulder. "Best boy."

It's quiet, in a comfortable way. There's no reason for Taeyong to be comfortable here, in a strange bedroom with someone who is angry at him downstairs and a boy way out of his league holding him so closely.

Johnny looks like he's holding his breath, slack-jawed. Taeyong did that. "You're so cute." A revelation. Johnny is open and vulnerable and Taeyong did that, too.

For a hanging moment, they sit inches apart, smiling dopily at each other.

"You can stay the night, if you want." Johnny's gaze is steady. The way his hands clench isn't a sign of nerves, just his hopefulness. He wants Taeyong stay.

Somehow, that makes the decision simple. Johnny is a simple person, and that makes decisions simple, even if Taeyong feels like they should be complicated. "Okay." It's late anyway, the sun long sunk down into the earth. The lamplight makes Johnny's eyes seem even warmer than usual. It's like Taeyong's eyes are grainy, everything covered in a filter so it seems comfortable. "No funny business."

"Me?" Johnny can't even pretend he isn't delighted. "Never."

It's a small step forward and a big victory, if Taeyong allows himself to have it.

"Okay," he says again.

Okay.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Johnny is my boyfriend


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bitch is back and the bitch is me.

Staying the night comes with a few complications, the biggest being where Taeyong is going to sleep.

Actually, the biggest complication is that Taeyong doesn't have any of his shit and also he has the sneaking suspicion that Johnny sleeps shirtless which is fine but also maybe not fine. But when they're getting ready for bed Johnny takes his hoodie off and leaves the t-shirt on underneath and offers Taeyong some of his own clothes.

They've spent the last three hours in Johnny's bedroom, just talking. Johnny isn't even embarrassed about all the plushies he has — "I like cute things," he tells Taeyong, and he only flushes when Taeyong smiles at him — and lets Taeyong peruse his bookshelf with a fond look on his face. There's a little bit of everything. Books that were clearly bought for classes, biographies, fantasy, one that's printed out and bound by ribbon through a three-hole punch.

"That's all of the _Night Night_ scripts, actually," Johnny says when Taeyong pulls it out. The first page is laminated, and there's an enormous picture of Johnny and Jaehyun on the front, grainy and ugly. Taeyong laughs. "Jaehyun gave it to me for my birthday."

"That's so cute." Taeyong laughs. He flips to the end and sees that the most recent episode is there, too, with protectors around the hole punch and red pen written in the margins. There's a doodle of Jaehyun in the corner. It's horrible.

Johnny cares about things so much. Taeyong thinks they might have that in common, even if it shows up differently.

Taeyong is sitting in Johnny Seo's bedroom, wearing Johnny Seo's shirt, getting ready to share Johnny Seo's bed, and it all feels very unreal and somehow very grounded. Is this how crushes are supposed to feel? Like you're flying away and want to stay in the same spot forever?

But the panic can only be pushed aside so much.

"I can sleep on the couch again," Taeyong says, earnest.

Johnny has taken out his contacts and has his glasses perched on his nose again. He's cute. Taeyong wants to kiss his nose but he isn't going to because he's not sure his heart could take it. In fact, he's currently sitting a good foot away from Johnny on the bed, because the closer it gets to bed time the more he's beginning to panic. He's a clinger — what if he grabs onto Johnny in his sleep? Taeyong remembers the last time, waking up in Johnny's arms. It wasn't bad. His heart hadn't beat out of his chest then, but Taeyong thinks it might if it happens again. He feels differently now.

That's probably a sign that he wants it to happen, but that's scary in and of itself.

"I'm not making you sleep on the couch." Johnny looks at him like he's crazy. "If you're uncomfortable I can sleep on the couch, though. I don't mind."

Taeyong scoffs. "You're _sick_." He tucks his feet up. Johnny's opened his bedroom window to make it less stuffy, but now he's a little chilly. He won't say that the idea of curling up under the covers isn't appealing. "I'm not making you sleep on the couch."

"Well." Johnny sighs. "We're at an impasse."

Taeyong sucks on his teeth. "I guess sharing a bed with you wouldn't be the worst," he says eventually. He pretends not to see the smug glint in Johnny's eyes, because if he acknowledges it he's likely to hurl himself out the open window. He frowns at the sheets. "Did you throw up on these?"

Johnny stutters. "N—no! I didn't! I changed the sheets."

"Acceptable," Taeyong says, prim, tugging at the tag on one of Johnny's pillows. "It's a big bed."

"It is a big bed." Johnny laughs, but he reaches forward and puts a hand on top of Taeyong's head, making Taeyong look up at him. Johnny is very tall. Taeyong hates thinking about it. "Are you okay, though?"

"I'm fine." He is. He's perfectly fine. "As long as I don't, like, think about it at all, everything is fine."

Taeyong pouts.

"But I think for tonight that's perfectly adequate." Johnny gently tangles his fingers in Taeyong's hair, just for a moment — fleeting — and Taeyong remembers Johnny asking to touch his forehead that first time in class. Think about the parts of Taeyong that have changed since then and the parts of Johnny that have filled out, a round character instead of a part of the background.

"Do you remember the first time we talked?" Taeyong asks. "When I was sick and just...do you ever think about it?"

Johnny hums, but he's already slipping into the bed so his expression is lost. He takes the side closer to the wall. Taeyong wonders if he's doing that to give Taeyong a quick escape route. Taeyong hates that he thinks he might need one. "I think about you a lot."

Taeyong pushes him, and Johnny flops on the bed with a laugh. "What? I do." Johnny settles down, laying on his back, comforter pulled up to his chest and hands delicately folded on top. His smile is soft. "Don't you think of me?"

"Sometimes," Taeyong admits. It comes easily. "You give me a lot to think about."

The spot next to Johnny seems welcoming, but Taeyong continues to sit atop the sheets, twisting to look back at Johnny, comfortable and uncomfortable.

Johnny sobers. "I overheard you in the kitchen a little, with Sehun."

Oddly, Taeyong smiles. "Something to think about?"

"Maybe." Johnny searches Taeyong's face. Doesn't seem to find what he's looking for. "You don't regret it?"

Taeyong purses his mouth and looks down at his lap. "Hooking up with him?"

Johnny is biting his lip, more out of worry than anything, but he just nods.

"I don't think so," Taeyong says. The sex wasn't life changing, but Taeyong doesn't think it's ever going to be for him. He thinks of Jaehyun, and Jaehyun's experience, and in that way they're not the same. But there's still a big gap between what Taeyong got out of it and what Sehun did. "I just...I don't know. It's complicated." He misses when things were easier.

Johnny doesn't respond.

"But..." Taeyong clears his throat, awkward and stilted. "I don't think that any of the good days I've had recently would have happened if not for that." Swallows. "If that makes sense."

"I think so." Quiet.

The good days aren't just Johnny's doing. They're Taeyong's doing, in most ways, but he'd be lying if he said Johnny wasn't a part of them.

Taeyong takes a deep breath. "Thanks for, um, giving me time."

The way Johnny looks at Taeyong is terrifying, because it makes Taeyong's chest swell, and Taeyong thinks he's looking at Johnny the same way. Or he could be. Once he stops walking in circles and faces forward, finally, ready to be Alice and jump down the rabbit hole.

For now, he takes off his socks and slips under the covers, still warm, and turns off the light.

"You're welcome," Johnny says, so quiet, as Taeyong settles in. A little small. "I'm happy that I can give that to you."

There's space between them, but Taeyong reaches out in the dark and tangles his hand in the fabric of Johnny's shirt, Johnny's fingers gentle on his wrist, and for now it's enough to cover the distance.

 

* * *

 

When Taeyong wakes up, it's not to the light of day, but to Johnny shaking his shoulder. "Taeyong...dude..."

"Dude...?" Taeyong asks, eyes cracking open. "Really?" The lights are still off, but Johnny's eyes are wide in the darkness, and it takes another couple of seconds for Taeyong's consciousness to catch up with him and hear the music.

_Oh Canada! Our home and native land! True patriot love in all of us command—_

"I didn't want to answer it for you," Johnny is saying, as Taeyong fumbles for his phone on the bedside table. "He's already called twice."

"What time is it?" Taeyong asks, rubbing his eyes. His hands find his phone, and the LED display is too bright in the darkness. He blinks the spots away. _3:41_. They only went to bed two hours ago. "I hate this kid."

Johnny laughs, only slightly tinged with worry, as Taeyong answers the phone.

"Taeyong," Mark says as soon as Taeyong accepts the call. He doesn't even have the time to say hello. "God, Taeyong." He sounds stricken. "I'm so fucking sorry. I know it's late. I'm the worst."

He sounds like he's been crying.

Frowning, Taeyong props himself up against the headboard. He feels it in his bones, that this conversation will either be very long or very short, but either way Taeyong doesn't think he's getting back to sleep any time soon. "You're fine. What's wrong?" Mark is quiet, the churning of his brain loud over the line. "Mark, seriously. You're scaring me."

"I...fucked up," he says, so small, so tired. "I really fucked up."

"What happened?" Taeyong rubs the sleep from his eyes, his own voice sounds too loud in the quiet of Johnny's bedroom. He looks over and sees Johnny's eyes, still wide and shining as the moonlight trickles in from the window. Worried.

Mark doesn't answer. "Can you do me a huge favor?"

Taeyong wouldn't describe the feeling that falls over him as hesitation. It's an odd mix of concern and confusion and fear. "Please tell me you're not in jail." How is Taeyong going to explain this to his aunt? There's no way. He doesn't have the money for bail.

"No!" Mark laughs, despite himself, but his voice is thick. "No. I'm...I'm fine."

"Yeah, you sure sound fine," Taeyong replies.

"Can you..." Mark swallows. "Can you pick up Donghyuck from the bus station in Chesney?"

More confusion. "When?" Chesney is about 40 minutes away, almost three hours from Taeyong's hometown. The bus station is on the edge of the city, but the traffic won't be a bother at this time of night, and not many people take the overnight busses. Taeyong can probably make it there in less time.

"Just...as soon as possible." Mark sniffs. "He's by himself. I'm worried."

Taeyong doesn't think now is a good time to ask what happened. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Mark says, and maybe that's the most frightening thing. "He...he won't answer me."

Taeyong has already thrown the covers aside, feet bare against the cold floor. It's enough of a shock to remind him that he exists in the mortal plane, but not enough to shake the clouds from his brain. A 40 minute drive one way might kill him. "Is he already at the station?"

"I think so." Mark coughs, maybe cries, but he reigns whatever it might have been in and clears his throat. "He just told me which bus he took. The website says it's arrived."

There's more going on there than Taeyong wants to deal with right now. "Okay. I'll leave right now."

A pause.

"You want to talk about it?"

Mark takes a shaky breath. "No." Another pause. "I'm sure he'll say something."

"Give me his number." Taeyong's expression is severe, and it's not curbing Johnny's worry but whatever. "We'll talk in the morning."

"Text me when you get him." Hangs up.

Looks like it's going to be a sleepless night for the both of them.

There's a hand tugging at his t-shirt, and Taeyong looks over at Johnny. "I have to go pick up a child," Taeyong explains with a huff.

Johnny's frown deepens. "From the train station?"

"I wish." The train station is only a few miles away. "Chesney."

"You're not driving there by yourself." Johnny pulls himself out of bed after Taeyong and pulls on the hoody he'd left on the floor. "It's late and you're exhausted."

Taeyong stares at him. "You're the sick one. And it's not your problem."

"Come on! I've been stuck inside all day." Johnny tosses Taeyong his discarded socks, and Taeyong catches them uselessly. "Fresh air will be nice. I haven't thrown up in like...at least seventeen hours. I'm healed."

"I'm not going to let you drive all the way to Chesney with me," Taeyong huffs, but he's pulling on his socks anyway. His pants are folded neatly on top of Johnny's desk, and he struggles to pull them on, hopping on one-leg around the room. "I'm perfectly capable of going by myself."

Johnny pulls on sweatpants. He looks like a shapeless blob in the darkness, glasses back on his nose. "But do you have the time to argue with me about it?"

Taeyong groans. "I hate everything about you."

It's a lie.

Johnny knows it. He glances at Taeyong's phone, lighting up — _Mark Lee_ and a shiny new contact. "Can I drive?" he asks, instead of saying what's on his mind.

God, Taeyong hates driving. "We're taking my car." Foot down. He's seen glimpses of the disaster that's Johnny's car. No way.

Johnny's fingers flutter over Taeyong's wrist, a casual comfort, and he makes his way out the bedroom door. Taeyong's heart is oddly heavy and light all at once.

He follows.

 

* * *

 

_Calling_ Mark's Hyuck  
 _Call_ **Declined**  
_Calling_ Mark's Hyuck

 

* * *

 

**Mark's Hyuck**

Donghyuck this is Taeyong  
I'm coming to get you.

If you don't answer me and tell me you're okay then I am calling your mother.  
I have no qualms about getting you in trouble if I don't know you're safe.

im okay dont call my mom

You're at the station?

yes

Thank you  
We're on our way okay? Hold tight

 

* * *

 

Taeyong's favorite part of Johnny driving his car is the way Johnny has to push the seat back so far. Johnny doesn't think to do it before he gets seated, so there's a glorious moment where Johnny's long legs are pushed up awkwardly against the steering wheel, and then another moment before Taeyong tells him where the button is to adjust it.

After that, it's a quiet drive. Taeyong fades in and out in the passenger's seat with Johnny's phone hooked up to the aux. He scrolls through the playlists, picks a song and watches to see if Johnny bops his head along to the beat or not.

Johnny's taste in music is eclectic, like his bookshelf. Taeyong scrolls through the titles and picks ones he doesn't know. Johnny mouths the words to all of them.

A lot of time goes into watching Johnny's profile.

Johnny catches him twice.

"Thanks for coming with me," Taeyong says the second time, because he isn't sure what he's going to find at the end of the road.

"Any time." Like it's nothing.

Maybe, for Johnny, it is.

Taeyong thinks about what Johnny said before, that he's ready to commit at any time, and it warms his heart and freezes his limbs all at once, because Johnny has already committed and that's a line Taeyong isn't ready to draw. But he was right when he told Johnny that he's happy when he isn't thinking about it, and that also means something. Taeyong when he's not thinking is more honest than Taeyong trapped in his own head.

They talk softly on the way to Chesney, like it's a normal night and they're on a normal road trip. "McDonald's?" Johnny asks hopefully as they pass one on the road.

Taeyong wouldn't mind the caffeine. "Maybe on the way back," he says.

They pass it without another word.

Taeyong doesn't know Donghyuck well. He knows Donghyuck is a bright boy, not very emotional but prone to bouts of impulse, more because he doesn't consider the consequences. Taeyong wonders what was going on in his head when he bought an overnight ticket for a four hour bus ride. He wonders when the realization hit, when he texted Mark.

Johnny pulls up to the station and there's a figure slumped on the bench outside.

There are other people milling around, one guy sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette and a girl talking on her phone standing by the front door. Donghyuck is sitting on the bench, legs splayed out in front of him, hunched down like he has something to hide. There's a hat pulled low over his face, suspicious, and when Taeyong gets out and slams the car door shut he sees what Donghyuck is hiding — red eyes, swollen checks, sheer exhaustion.

"Sup," he says, hands shoved in his pocket. His white shoes have gum stuck to the bottom.

Taeyong walks up with purpose, but when he's standing there in front of him Taeyong finds himself speechless. Donghyuck is waiting for a scolding, that much is certain. There's trepidation in his eyes, but there's also something a little broken, and Taeyong doesn't have it in him to poke at the cracks.

He sits on the bench.

"Why Chesney?" he asks.

"Figured you'd come get me," Donghyuck admits. He hunkers down in his hoodie, thick fleece his last defense. "Didn't have enough money to get to my sister's house."

"Why'd you come to Chesney at four in the morning?" Taeyong asks, even though it's almost five now. It should be illegal for busses to even run at this hour. The sun will rise soon.

Donghyuck just shrugs. "Wanted to."

"You're not stupid," Taeyong tells him. "That's not a reason."

"Mark is stupid," Donghyuck replies. "How's that for a reason?"

Johnny has turned Taeyong's car off, sensing that this will be a longer pit stop, and steps outside, stretching his legs. He stays far enough away the he isn't eavesdropping. The girl in the doorway watches him warily, but Johnny just nods to her and pulls out his phone.

"Mark can be stupid." Taeyong sighs. Slumps down with Donghyuck, splayed out, taking up space and somehow so, so small. He wishes he knew what to do. "He didn't tell me anything. Just asked me to come get you."

"I don't want to talk about him." Donghyuck fidgets, fists balling up in his pockets as the seconds tick. "Are you gonna take me home?"

"What?" Taeyong asks. "One way ticket?"

Not surprised when Donghyuck doesn't respond.

"I don't have it in me to take you home tonight," Taeyong admits. "So if you wanted to run away I guess you succeeded for the day."

Running away is exactly what Donghyuck is doing, for whatever reason. Taeyong can recognize the signs, the feeling, the way Donghyuck's heart shakes.

Taeyong sighs. Tips his head towards Donghyuck, who's staring out at the main road like he's wearing blinders. "But if you didn't want to talk about Mark, you probably wouldn't have gone to see his cousin."

Donghyuck's lips quiver. It's quiet.

"Did you know he's going to California?" he asks eventually.

Something clicks, and Taeyong guesses he shouldn't be surprised this is an issue. "I knew he was considering it," he replies. Mark hasn't talked to him about it after that phone call, but his excitement had been palpable.

"Well, he decided." Donghyuck's voice is bitter, not warm at all. His dirty shoes tap rhythms on the pavement. "Today. Yesterday, I guess." He squints at the street lights. "Told me he's leaving in a couple of months. Already sent in his acceptance."

Something tells Taeyong that the _good for him_ on the tip of his tongue is the wrong thing to say. "Okay," he says instead.

Donghyuck presses his lips together, jaw working. He looks older in the grainy lamp light, but this is a young-hearted problem. He shouldn't look so tired. Taeyong's heart hurts for him. "He said..." Donghyuck scoffs, a nasty sound, almost cruel. "He doesn't want to see me any more because he doesn't want to try to make it work with the distance."

Taeyong takes a deep breath, letting the gears turn. He looks up at Johnny, who is keeping an eye on them and offers Taeyong a tight smile. But Johnny can't really tell Taeyong what to say. "Mark is stupid," he says.

Donghyuck shakes his head. "I'm angry." Plain. "I'm so fucking...fuck." He wipes under his eyes. Taeyong pretends he doesn't see the tears because Donghyuck doesn't want to acknowledge them either.

"You guys still have a few months to decide what you want to do," Taeyong tells him, and he takes the opportunity to rub Donghyuck's back. It's the right move, because the tension in Donghyuck's body, poised to snap, sinks out into the sidewalk and the boy slumps into Taeyong's side. "Mark was just making a snap decision—"

"He _wasn't_ ," Donghyuck pressed. "He's _thought_ about it. He's been thinking about it all fucking week, I could tell." He mutters something under his breath. _That bastard_ , maybe, but Taeyong doesn't tell him off for cursing his cousin. "And he fucking tells me on our fucking date, like that's the best case scenario." He swallows again, thick. "Like after _all we fucking went through_ we wouldn't be able to handle the distance."

Taeyong looks at Johnny again. The other boy is watches them both closely, unable to hear but obviously catching on the impending emotional breakdown, but he still can’t give Taeyong any answers, even if he had them. Still, there's comfort in the care he's giving them both. His eyes are soft when they fall on Donghyuck, even if he has no idea who he is.

Taeyong takes a deep breath. "Long distance relationships aren't for everyone."

"I don't care," Donghyuck snips. "Aren't we friends before we're anything else? And he's not even...he doesn't care enough to keep me around?" So tiny. A small, shaking voice. "Aren't we friends?"

"Oh, Donghyuck." Taeyong puts his arm around his shoulders and holds him closer. He rocks back and forth and doesn't mention the wet spot where Donghyuck presses his face into Taeyong's shirt.

"I don't want to talk about it." Clearly he does. "I want to pretend like it didn't happen. I couldn't stand to be there at all."

Taeyong smiles, despite everything. "And now you're in Chesney."

Donghyuck laughs, warbled. "And now I'm in Chesney." He makes a strangled noise, in the back of his throat. "I'm so fucking dumb. And broke."

"Neither of those things are huge character flaws," Taeyong admits, because he can't remember the days when his dumb decisions could be counted on his hands. "Maybe if you're a good boy I'll buy you McDonald's."

Donghyuck snorts, and it's gross and messy. He wipes his nose on the sleeve of his jacket and leans his head back against the bench. Even in the shitty lamplight, the way his chest quivers is too telling.

There are gears turning in both of their heads, and the quiet between them is heavy with words they can't find.

"It's like he doesn't even think the friendship is worth keeping," Donghyuck says to the stars.

"Oh, Hyuck." Taeyong swallows thickly. "You're everything to him. You should hear the way he talks about you." It seems like a futile effort, here in the parking lot miles from home. Like the conclusion has already been made and Taeyong is trying to superglue a heart back together.

Mark loves Donghyuck. That isn't a question.

"He can talk about me all he wants," Donghyuck says. He tugs his hat further down over his eyes. "It's when he doesn't talk _to_ me that I get pissed."

Taeyong doesn't blame him for being upset. Buying an overnight ticket on impulse is a stupid thing to do, but he's still a kid, and Taeyong can think of all sorts of shit he would have done in high school.

"A whole week," Donghyuck mutters. "A whole week he was thinking about it. The _one_ time I decide to let him work shit out on his own and it just...is this." He presses his lips together. "And now I'm in Chesney."

Chesney is well asleep, the cars trickling by more an indication of people waking up, and Taeyong feels tired down to his bones. "It's late." The arm around Donghyuck's shoulders squeezes tight. "Let's get you to bed so you can annoy him properly in the morning."

Donghyuck doesn't even laugh.

There's a moment of careful thought, a weigthed decision, before he says, tiny, "sleep would be nice."

 

* * *

 

"Thanks for coming with me," Taeyong says, a couple miles away from Johnny's house. Donghyuck is asleep in the back, clutching a McDonald's bag to his chest like a life-line. The car smells like french fries and bus station. Taeyong doesn't have the heart to wake him up, but there's still a few minutes left until he has to.

Donghyuck had perked up a little upon meeting Johnny. "You're so tall," he'd said when they made their way over to him. It was a Donghyuck kind of greeting, even if it was too low-energy to be proof of his getting back on his feet. "What are you so tall for?"

Johnny had just laughed. "I'm not that tall."

Taeyong had very quietly supported Donghyuck's scoff of derision. Johnny towers. "This is Johnny," he said. "He drove."

Donghyuck had perked up a little at meeting a new face, an entire new person to pester. But he looked at Taeyong first. "Email guy?"

The amount of time it took for Taeyong's brain to process the statement is embarrassing. He'll blame it on the hour, if questioned, but the smoke coming out of his ears only dissipates when he remembers the last time Donghyuck had come into town. "Oh. Yes."

Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, Donghyuck gave Johnny shameless elevator eyes, almost critical. "You were right," he had decided as Johnny's eyebrows flew up into his hairline. "He's cute."

Taeyong stood on the asphalt and sighed, heavy, as Donghyuck clambered into the backseat. "I don't want to hear it," he told Johnny, who was clearly trying to hold something down. A smile, maybe, or a fist pump.

Now, half an hour later, they have a kid conked out in the backseat and two McDonald's coffees between them, and Taeyong is exhausted.

"I don't mind coming," Johnny says. He looks more awake than any of them, despite being sick for most of the night before. "I wish I could have been more helpful."

"I..." Taeyong taps his fingers on the plastic lid of his cup. "I thought you were helpful."

Johnny knows full well he stood far away and let Taeyong handle a personal moment, but there are other ways to support a person, and Taeyong’s so grateful that Johnny came, even if he's embarrassed.

"Then I'm happy I'm here," Johnny replies, simple.

Their pinkies tangle over the console.

Taeyong spends the rest of the drive staring out the window and trying to stop his heart from beating so loud. He doesn't want to wake Donghyuck up, after all.

 

* * *

 

Johnny consistently is too good to Taeyong in ways that Taeyong doesn't deserves, because they pull up into Johnny's driveway and says, "You guys can both spend the night, if you want."

Taeyong shakes his head. "Johnny—"

"You really want to share a twin bed?" Johnny asks, eyes wide and innocent. He's already stepping out of the car, moving the seat up before turning off the ignition. As soon as the car turns off the night time is almost too quiet. There's an old-woman across the street drinking coffee on her porch, her cat sat in her lap, and Taeyong would give anything to be her right now.

"I do it all the time," Taeyong argues. He does. Him and Ten share a too-small bed all the time. "I've already inconvenienced you literally so much I want to die." He's gentle when he climbs out of the passenger's side, shutting the door softly to prolong waking up Donghyuck for as long as possible.

"It's not an inconvenience." Johnny tilts his head in Taeyong's direction and his glasses slide down his nose. "I get to share a bed with you and also know that Donghyuck doesn't get crushed in his sleep."

Panic flares. "That's just...a lot..." Taeyong's hands twist in his shirt. The butterflies threaten to rip his stomach to shreds.

Awkwardly, Johnny taps his shoes on the pavement, one hand buried in his pocket. "I would never force you." His other hands holds out Taeyong's keys. "But don't say no because you think I don't want you to say yes."

Taeyong stares at the key for for a moment, two moments, before taking a hold of them and — slipping them into his pocket.

"For Donghyuck," he says quietly.

Watching Johnny open the back door and handle Donghyuck is an experience. He shakes Donghyuck's shoulder gently, rousing him just enough to get some cooperation, and then he lifts Donghyuck up and out of the car. It's funny, because Donghyuck doesn't know Johnny at all, but half-asleep his body clings to him like a koala. Johnny struggles a little standing up straight, but once he has the boy wrapped around his front, drooling on his shoulder, he doesn't seem to have any problems.

Taeyong swallows his tongue and locks the car door.

Johnny's hands are busy with an overgrown baby, so it's Taeyong who opens the front door, and it's Taeyong who hurriedly gets the blankets and sets up the couch before Johnny puts the boy down, almost knocking his own glasses off in the process.

Donghyuck mumbles something in his sleep. Taeyong thinks it might be _thank you._

"You're welcome," Johnny says, brushing hair off of Donghyuck's forehead.

Taeyong's heart is tap dancing. It's loud and annoying and out of place.

When Johnny turns to look at him, he can see the struggle. "You don't have to stay," he says. "I'm more than happy just giving him the couch. We can talk about how to get him home tomorrow."

"No, I..." Taeyong's shaking hands smooth out the wrinkles in Johnny's collar. "I want to stay. I already made that decision."

Johnny laughs at him, just a little. "You can take it back." His hand covers Taeyong's, keeps it pressed there on his shoulder. "It's been a long night."

Taeyong chews on the inside of his cheek and looks Johnny in the eye. "I want to stay."

So he does.

Simple.

The sun is already coming up by the time they both sink into Johnny's bed, bone-weary, and Taeyong is a little bolder in reaching for Johnny across the mattress. Their legs brush under the covers. Johnny's hand still covers Taeyong's.

Breath on his cheek, Taeyong sleeps.

 

* * *

 

Johnny wakes up Taeyong with tea, way too early in the morning, and when Taeyong opens his crusty eyes and whines Johnny has no mercy. "You have classes later today," he says. "We need to take care of the child."

It's a cold bucket of water and Taeyong pulls himself into the land of the living. He takes the mug out of Johnny's hands, ceramic almost burning his skin. It's a weird morning, waking up in someone else's bed. Johnny has clearly been awake for a while — his hair is brushed and his contacts are in, but he's still wearing his sleep-shirt and his face is a bit puffy. Taeyong doesn't want to image what he himself looks like at the moment.

"Didn't even get to cuddle," Taeyong mutters, taking a sip.

Johnny puts a hand to his chest, mock-insulted. "No canoodling in my Christian household."

Taeyong just sips his tea.

There's a voice ringing up from the living room, Donghyuck's voice uncharacteristically soft, and Taeyong gets out of bed with a sigh. He cracks his back and pops his hip and readjusts Johnny's shirt on his shoulders. He's not exactly ready to face the world, but he hardly ever is.

Canoodling will have to wait.

Donghyuck is awake, sitting crossed legged on the couch, phone to his ear. It doesn't seem to be a fun conversation. Taeyong isn't surprised. Still, he isn't panicking at the strange house, or the weird situation, and he looks like a zombie but that's normal with kids these days, Taeyong thinks. Johnny must have talked to him this morning, because Donghyuck has his own tea in his own novelty mug that quickly cooling on the coffee table, untouched.

"That's not what I'm saying." Donghyuck's voice gets significantly softer when he sees Taeyong and Johnny enter the living room. He looks at them almost guiltily before holding the phone closer, furtive. "I don't want...listen..."

Taeyong assumes that the person on the other end of the line is Mark and does his best not to eavesdrop. He leads Johnny into the kitchen, slipping on fake tile in his socks. The tea sloshes in his mug. "Mark?"

Johnny frowns. "I don't know." He looks at Donghyuck, sitting small on the couch. "Mark's your cousin, right?"

It's a little embarrassing when Taeyong thinks about it, the fact that Taeyong has explained next to nothing and Johnny jumped in to help anyway. He's not sure how much he should divulge, since it's not his business, but the argument could be made that it _is_ his business — as well as Johnny's — since Mark made that call last night.

Taeyong does his best to catch Johnny up to speed. There are huge gaps in his knowledge, the largest of which being that Taeyong doesn't know Donghyuck well enough to make any sort of educated guess, but he does know Mark. Mark usually overthinks things.

"It's a family trait," Johnny says, cheeky, taking a sip of his second cup of coffee.

Donghyuck wanders into the kitchen, less of a ghost and more of a tired mess. His hair is sticking up in all directions. He holds his phone out towards Taeyong, still on the call, mouth a thin line. "Tell him not to skip school," he says, jaw clenched. "He never fucking listens to me."

There's twittering from the phone, and Mark's clearly heard Donghyuck's derision, but Taeyong won't chastise him for it when he isn't sure whether or not it's deserved. "He doesn't listen to me, either," Taeyong admits, but he takes the phone anyway. "Mark?"

"Don't tell Mom."

Taeyong sighs. "Mark." Honestly, it's too early for this. "What's this about school?"

"I'm not just leaving him there," Mark says, on the verge of panic. "He doesn't have any money, or a car, or _anything_ —"

"Didn't you call me so I could take care of him?" Taeyong asks, cutting through the dust kicking up in Mark's head. His voice is stern. "Let me."

"You'd be skipping school, too," Mark points out. It's a little surprising, because Mark is a polite kid and rarely talks back to authority, even if Taeyong's position as one is tentative at best. "And this is my fault. I already burdened you enough."

"That's my decision," Taeyong reminds him. He leans his hip against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You brought me into this, and I'm happy you did, because you needed the help. I'm offering to help you."

There's shuffling and chaos on the other end of the line. Taeyong thinks Mark is in the school hallway; he doesn't think Mark's mom would have let him stay home. He's not even sure Mark's mom knows what's going on. "I don't need your help," Mark says, and it hurts, but it's also silly. "I want to come get him."

Taeyong's eyes flicker up to Johnny, and he makes a face — _kids, the death of me_. "You don't have the gas, you don't have the time, and if your mom is in the dark, you definitely don't have permission."

"I'm _eighteen_."

"I'm serious, Mark." Taeyong knows how to win this argument, even if he hates it. "You're going to sit down and go to class, and I'll drive Donghyuck home, and I won't say a word. Otherwise, I'm calling _his_ mom and she can come get him."

Clearly, this isn't what Donghyuck wants. He withers, whines. "That's not fair! _I'm_ not the one skipping class."

Taeyong makes a face at him, hand over the receiver. "You literally are. I don't want to hear it."

Johnny sets his coffee cup on Donghyuck's bedhead, unbothered. "Taeyong makes the rules." Slow and measured.

Donghyuck huffs, but it looks like he accepts it. His hoodie looks too big on him and he sinks down into it. Taeyong wishes this were a brighter moment. He likes Donghyuck a lot. It sucks that it's only their second meeting and Taeyong is having to throw his weight around.

But Donghyuck did give Taeyong the phone.

Mark is not happy. Mark might even be angry, as much as Taeyong has ever seen him. "I came to you because I trusted you," he says. "I need to talk to him!"

"Whatever you two need to figure out will not be happening today." Taeyong runs a hand down his face. A two hour drive sounds dreadful, fours hours both ways, but maybe he can spend some time with his mom and even the scales. "Honestly, that's second to making sure you're both taken care of."

Gently, Johnny nudges Taeyong with his foot. Casual comfort. Taeyong shakes his head, laughs, wry.

"Besides," Taeyong tells Mark, a little softer. "Maybe forcing Donghyuck to talk to you is a bad idea."

Donghyuck purses his lips. "It's fine." He's clearly not fine. Mark can't hear him anyway. He's talking into his shoulder, hands jammed in his pockets. His dark circles are bruises. He wills his own tension away and becomes something stripped and fragile instead.

But Taeyong doesn't think Donghyuck hates Mark. Donghyuck might not even be capable of hating Mark.

Mark very obviously doesn't hate Donghyuck; his voice cracks when he replies, "I need to talk to him, though."

"Well." Taeyong sighs. "You have an entire school day to clear your head for when you do."

"Taeyong—"

"Study hard!" Taeyong chirps, false positive, and hangs up the phone.

"That was kind of hot," Donghyuck jokes, "and I hated it."

Johnny hums in agreement.

Taeyong hands Donghyuck his phone back, flushed. "Not to be like, a stick in the mud or anything, but you really should be thankful I'm not telling your mom anyway. You could have really gotten hurt."

"I'm _seventeen_ ," Donghyuck snips, and it's so similar to Mark — in cadence and content — that Taeyong feels like things will be okay.

"I can drive him home if you want," Johnny offers a little later, when Taeyong is picking up the random things he's left around the house. It feels like he made dinner here last week instead of last night, but he leaves the leftovers in the fridge anyway.

He looks at Johnny incredulously. "I'm more than fine with taking care of it." He stands up as tall as he can, because Johnny convinced him last night but he won't stand for it now. "You're going to stay here and go to class and I'm going to handle it. I'll just stay home for the weekend. I can manage skipping this class. Everything is fine."

Honestly, Taeyong needs some rum and a nap, but he can get that at home.

"But thank you," Taeyong says, a little belatedly, because Johnny is giving him puppy eyes and he's weak. "Thank you for everything. I'm sorry I ruined what should have been a good night's sleep."

"I slept okay," Johnny says, grinning. "I had good company."

Taeyong scratches his ear, put a hand on his cheek, fidgets. "Yeah."

It's a lot. The past 24 hours have been a lot.

"I think some processing time would do you good," Johnny says after a moment.

"Processing, yes." Taeyong swallows. "Yes. That'd be great." Maybe he can get his brain to stop firing.

Johnny does the same thing he did to Donghyuck, places his mug atop Taeyong's head and holds it there and smiles and Taeyong finds it endearing. It's stupid. Johnny is so dumb. "Drive safe."

There's a weird prickling, warmth spreads through Taeyong's body but the tingles are almost painful. "I will," he answers, and then he's leading Donghyuck out the door.

 

* * *

 

"Stay here," Taeyong tells Donghyuck when he pulls into the dorm parking lot. Donghyuck is mostly dead to the world, half-asleep in the backseat just like he had been last night, but Taeyong still feels like the direction is necessary. "I'm just going to go get a bag together and then I'll be right back."

It's funny; things never end up the way Taeyong thinks they will.

When he gets to his floor and sees someone sitting in the hallway by their door, Taeyong figures the Powers that Be are forcing him to handle everything all at once before he can finally know peace. "Good morning," he says, when he comes up.

The guy looks up at him, and Taeyong's first thought is that he's handsome like Jaehyun is handsome, classical and intimidating. His eyebrows are strong and furrowed, but he smooths out his own wrinkles when he sees someone is speaking to him. "Hello," he says, a little stiff. "Sorry, am I in your way?"

"Uhm." Not really, but Taeyong would really like to know why he's here. "It's okay..." He pauses. "I'm Taeyong. Are you here for me, or...?"

"No, I'm not. I'm sorry." The guy scrambles to his feet. He's wearing double denim but somehow it doesn't make Taeyong want to cry. His hair is styled, swept back from his face, but he looks like he hasn't slept. "I'm Kun."

Taeyong smiles awkwardly. "Are you...friends with Ten?"

It's obvious that Kun had expected some kind of recognition, but he hides his displeasure well. "Probably." He smiles back, blinding and fake. "Do you know where I can find him?"

Things snap together in an instant and Taeyong curses himself for not putting it together sooner. He feels like put his own foot through the floor boards. "He probably just left for class," Taeyong admits.

Kun's smile tightens at the corners. "I've been here for a while."

"Ah." Taeyong digs for his keys in his pockets. "Well...in that case, texting him is probably easier."

The face Kun makes is telling. "I'll text him again, then, I guess."

_Oh, Ten._ Taeyong busies himself with opening his dorm room. He doesn't want to leave Donghyuck alone for too long but he also knows he needs to talk to Ten. He's never been good at the balance of everything. The Powers that Be need to give him a fucking break. "Well, I'm about to head out, but I'll let him know you're looking for him." He opens the door too wide.

There's a moment between Taeyong seeing Ten sitting in his bed and it registering in his brain, and that moment is enough for Kun to notice Taeyong's body locking up. The pure fear on Ten's face is too much to manage, and Taeyong has a split decision to make except it's already been made for him.

He turns towards Kun, using his body to block the door. "He's probably just busy." Voice too high. "I'll tell him as soon as he gets back."

Taeyong has never been a good liar.

He doesn't know Kun at all, but he seems like a smart man. He'd have to be, to be able to keep up with Ten for this long.

Kun is angry. Taeyong doesn't know Kun at all, doesn't know what's going on, but Kun is angry and Taeyong knows that much. He'd smoothed out his own wrinkles and hidden his displeasure, but now he's angry and he doesn't bother curbing it.

"I guess that's the answer I was looking for," Kun says eventually, jaw clenched. He's still smiling. "Tell Ten not to bother, since he hasn't already."

Taeyong's heart breaks. "I—"

Kun is inclining his head. "It was nice meeting you, Taeyong." And then he turns on his heels and walks away.

It takes several moments for Taeyong to catch his breath. He stands there, in the door of his bedroom, and decides he has no idea what to do. It's a common feeling. "Ten." He turns.

Ten is bundled up in his bed, headphones dangling around his ears, and he looks so overwhelmingly upset, so unlike himself. "Hi, how's it going?" Weak. Knees pulled up to his chest.

"The fuck was that?" Taeyong demands. His hands are shaking. "Is that the guy you've been talking to?"

"Maybe," Ten mutters.

Taeyong is strung so thin. "Do I need to kill him?" Unsure. Pulled tight.

"No." Ten's voice cracks. "Kill me instead."

" _Ten._ " Deep breath. Deep breath. Something about that had tipped Taeyong's scales. He had been keeping it together and now he's not. His chest hurts. "What's going on? I thought you liked him?"

"I _don't know_." Ten's hands grip the railing of the bunk bed. He must not have moved at all. He still looked like a mess, hair all over the place. How long had Kun been there waiting that Ten has been so afraid to move at all. "I don't know, I don't know what's happening to me."

Taeyong holds his breath, three seconds, lets it out, and walks over to start shoving clothes into a bag. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

Ten's silence is so loud.

Taeyong waits.

"After our date," Ten says eventually, and alarm bells are still ringing.

"Did you sleep with him?" Taeyong asks, measured, tucking his toothbrush into a Ziploc bag.

Small. "Yes."

If Taeyong didn't think it would break the both of them, he'd laugh. "Oh, Ten." If he looked closely he'd see the red rims of Ten's eyes, the swelling of his face, so he doesn't look closely because that's the last thing Ten wants. "We're too similar."

Ten does laugh, even if it's a little bitter. "I wish. You're letting yourself be happy and I'm not."

Taeyong doesn't want to ask why, because if Ten knew why then he probably wouldn't be hiding in his bed. "It's hard," Taeyong admits instead. "I don't feel like I deserve it."

"But you do," Ten insists.

"So do you."

It's awkward, standing there in the middle of the room with half a packed bag, craning his neck to try and look Ten in the eye. It's been a heavy few hours. The weight of it makes Taeyong's shoulders sag, but he has a purpose and a plan. He zips up his backpack. "You need to talk to him."

Ten clenches his teeth. "Not now."

"Maybe not." Kun probably doesn't want to be talked to, anyway. "But you've already waited a long time."

"Not now." Ten runs a hand through his hair, smooths in down with fluttery hands. "Later, maybe, but not now." His sheets are tangled around his legs. This is the least put together Taeyong has ever seen him, more emotionally than anything. A part of his heart says this could be good, in the long run, if they make it out alive.

"Well." Taeyong looks at his phone. Donghyuck has been alone for well over fifteen minutes. "You've already skipped class."

Ten falls back onto the bed with a groan. " _Boys_."

"Tell me about it." First Mark, now Ten. It's a rare day that Taeyong is having the easiest time of it. Still. "Maybe you need a break."

"Definitely need a break." So tired. Taeyong relates to that, deep down in his bones.

"You have any plans for this weekend?"

Ten always has plans, usually made up on the spot, but it means something when he looks at Taeyong and says, "No. Not anymore."

Taeyong throws his backpack over his shoulder. "If you can get ready in the next fifteen minutes, my mom can make you cookies."

It takes Ten twenty minutes in total, but Taeyong doesn't mind, and Donghyuck only needs a stop at Taco Bell for all to be forgiven.

It'd be nice if everyone was as straight-forward as Donghyuck.

_Are you driving safe?_ chimes in on Taeyong's phone while they're going through the drive through, while Taeyong knows Johnny is supposed to be in class, and it's enough to give him the energy to keep going.

_Always_ , Taeyong replies. He likes to think it's a promise.

More than that, he likes to think it's a promise he can keep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To me, this feels a little different than the other chapters, but I think seeing Taeyong interact with outside stressors is also important. (I think Taeyong is probably better at consoling people, but seeing as I myself am abysmal at it, he gets all my worst traits)
> 
> Anyway, comment for more Johnny love thnx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please check author's notes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a non consensual situation in the chapter and some thinly veiled slut-shaming. If you're sensitive to that, stop reading at _"Finally," the girl drawls, and she looks at Taeyong critically. "Good luck."_ and pick up at the scene break.
> 
>  
> 
> ANYWAY I'm back and I wrote this scene in a single day on the power of coffee and sheer will thanks

Taeyong introduces Ten to his mother (again, but the first time had been when they'd moved in together, so he's not certain she remembers him well). Ten stands awkwardly on their doorstep, eyes still a little swollen but otherwise his normal self, and charms her to pieces.

She welcomes him inside and offers him a late lunch, and then she clings to Taeyong the way she always does when he first gets home.

"I'll pretend like your visit has nothing to do with Donghyuck's mysterious disappearance," she titters, and Taeyong grins at her.

"Mothers always notice more than we want them to," he tells her, leading her arm in arm towards the kitchen.

"If he's okay, then I won't tattle." She laughs, a conspirator. "Shame for Donghyuck, though — Mark isn't as good a liar."

They'd dropped Donghyuck off at school shortly before making their way to Taeyong's house. He's not sure how the boys are going to get around the fact that Donghyuck missed classes and his mom definitely knows — honestly, couldn't Donghyuck have done this over the weekend? — but it's out of Taeyong's hands now.

He's just glad that Ten and Donghyuck are separated.

The entire drive had been more of an interrogation than Taeyong was prepared for, but he supposes he did that to himself when he invited the two most chaotic forces in his life to exist together in an enclosed space.

("So...Johnny, huh?"

"Wait." Ten perks up from his emotional hangover and squints at Taeyong. "Johnny?"

Taeyong coughs awkwardly, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "Who?"

Donghyuck looks up devilishly from his phone — he's a good match for Mark, Taeyong decides; Mark is all sugar and Donghyuck is something else. "The man who drove you to Chesney in the middle of the night. The man you spent the night with? That Johnny."

The noise Ten makes is not human. It's a screech and it's terrifying. "Excuse me? Taeyong? Where did this game come from?"

"I don't have game!" Taeyong insists, near hysteric. "I don't know a Johnny!"

Donghyuck laughs, leaning forward in his seat so his elbows are on the console. "If you don't want him, I'll take him. I'm back on the market."

Taeyong wants to scream. "You're a _child_ and you're dating my cousin. Please stop."

"I'll take him," Ten offers. "God, he's so hot. And big. God."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Taeyong asks, turning the music up so the bass shakes the rearview mirror. "I'm sorry, what? I can't hear your bullshit all of a sudden.")

The only regret Taeyong has is that he didn't get to see Mark's face upon seeing Donghyuck again, but if that has to be a private moment then Taeyong can't complain. Honestly, there's a big possibility it won't go well. Donghyuck's mood had soured significantly the closer they got to their destination, and he'd looked almost grim when he got out of the car, wearing yesterday's hoodie and scowl.

"Thanks," he'd mumbled, a different vision from the one who had teased Taeyong in the car for two hours straight. "Thank Johnny for me."

"Will do." Taeyong smiled at him, but it was tight. "Try not to think so hard, kid."

Ten had laughed as they pulled out of the parking lot. "You're really one to talk."

"I'm trying," Taeyong replied, because he is. Even Ten, in all his bickering, can't deny as much.

And it's nice having Ten home, too. It's uncharted territory, because Taeyong doesn't really bring people home with him, so the two realms are completely separate. Ten gets along with Taeyong's mother, and it's nice to have someone give his mom a fresh perspective on university, too.

She doesn't ask about the rain cloud hanging over Ten's head, and Ten does his best to will it away. He doesn't touch his phone. It doesn't light up either, no incoming text messages or potential crises. No Kun.

Taeyong decides maybe that's for the best. Kun left the ball in Ten's court for a reason. For once, it doesn't seem like Ten is enjoying the power.

Taeyong and his mother have similar vices, so he's not surprised when she reveals all the sweets she'd made over the past few days. "I'm always prepared for visitors," she says, unwrapping a bread pan after all of them have scarfed down beef and rice and are ready for an afternoon nap.

"You just like to eat," Taeyong teases, already getting the serrated knife from the holder.

"A family trait," Ten chirps.

Johnny texts him in the evening, when the bread pan is empty and his stomach is full.

**Johnny**

How's your mom?

WONDERFUL  
SHE MADE ME FOOD  
BEST MOM

Valid kkkk you haven't met my mom tho hmm

I'm sure she's lovely but also  
My mom wins.

Best Mom Energy

I hate that  
You're right

 

Ten plucks Taeyong's phone out of his fingers. Taeyong is too busy grinning to mind the intrusion. "You don't know a Johnny, hmm?" Ten scrolls up through their conversation with a scoff. "This is gross."

"We're just talking," Taeyong argues, but he's melting a little. He's glad that Johnny texted him.

"I hate this." Ten flips Taeyong's phone onto the bed beside them. "Who would have thought that you'd be a Ring By Spring kind of girl."

Taeyong flushes red. "I'm not!" He does not need a ring. He does not _want_ a ring. "We haven't even like..."

"Haven't what?"

"We're not official or anything," Taeyong admits. "It's really new."

They're in Taeyong's childhood bedroom, talking about boys, and Taeyong thinks this is the stereotype that was missing from his high school experience. He doesn't really regret it. He's in a different place now than he was then. It still feels a little stifling.

Ten huffs. "Well, Lord knows I'm not in a position to give you advice." He picks at the fraying tag on the end of Taeyong's pillow. His feet are curled up underneath him and he's wearing one of his old hook up's sweatshirts. It hangs off one shoulder, swallows him. Ten has always liked big men. He likes feeling small in sex and hates it everywhere else. Taeyong knows this fact in detail.

"I always appreciate your opinions." Taeyong throws a wadded napkin and it plops helplessly in Ten's lap. "Even when we both know neither of us will take our own advice."

Ten doesn't want to talk about it. Taeyong doesn't want to press. So he lets Ten tease him until things are easier.

"Johnny texted you again," Ten says loftily after a moment, tossing Taeyong his phone where it's been lost amongst the covers. "If I see any heart emojis I'm vomiting on your comforter and I'm not cleaning it up."

It's not actually Johnny. Ten was right to assume, because no one else really texts Taeyong these days, but it's not Johnny.

_I miss yuo_

It's Ilhoon.

Taeyong sighs. "Not Johnny." He doesn't try to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but Ilhoon is also his friend, so it's still nice that the thought was spared. They haven't talked much recently. Taeyong has missed him, too.

**Ilhoonie**

:( Miss you too  
I'll be back on Sunday though

No  
Miss you now  
want ot see you now

 

"I think he might be drunk," Taeyong says idly, laughing a little.

Ten scoots closer, flopping sideways on the bed so his head is in Taeyong's lap. "Who?"

"Ilhoon."

Taeyong doesn't imagine it when Ten tenses, or when Ten sighs.

Kind of far away  
You okay?

Come back  
ill wait ofr you there's music  
We can dance

Lmao okay bb on my way

 

Ten pulls his phone out of his pocket and Taeyong texts Mina — _Are you with Ilhoon?_

Her response — _yes so sorry he's fine_ — is immediate and reassuring, because no one can handle Ilhoon at his worst like Mina at her best, but a part of Taeyong does wish he could be there to lend a helping hand. He's not sure how much good he'd do, though.

His phone pings again.

**Ilhoonie**

Tell tEn to fuck off

 

Taeyong laughs. "What did you tell him?" he asks after reading the message aloud.

Ten looks up at Taeyong, a breath away from rolling his eyes. "Nothing he didn't need to hear." He looks primly at his own phone. "Doesn't text _me_ back though. I see how it is."

**Ilhoonie**

Listen to Tennie  
I thought you weren't going to drink as much

wanted to  
Missed you  
Are you happy?

That you miss me? Lmao

No jsut in general

Um  
I think so

ok

 

Taeyong frowns, setting his phone down beside himself.

Ten is looking up at him, eyes overly focused. They're both waiting for something.

"Do you feel like something is about to boil over?" Taeyong asks aloud, useless.

"This Mercury retrograde is a massive bitch."

A joke is better than a confirmation, at least as far as Taeyong's peace of mind is concerned, so he allows it.

 

* * *

 

**Johnny**

I miss you

It's been less than 24 hours

yeah

Ten says you're gross

Yeah.  
I accept it

I miss you too  
Ten also thinks I'm gross

He's right probably  
Bring me back bread?

We ate it all

:(

I'll make you more

:)

 

* * *

 

Whatever happens with Ilhoon, Mina is able to deal with it. She sends him a picture of Ilhoon asleep in his own bed at three in the morning, and Taeyong laughs when he sees it. It's mildly worrying, but the longer things settle between the three of them the less Taeyong thinks he deserves to worry. Something has irrevocably shifted and he's not sure whether it's for better or worse.

Taeyong feels worse, but he thinks that's because he's lost all control.

In some ways, that's better.

The year is winding down, and Taeyong has to deal with exams and projects and the end of tax season and all sorts of fun things. Taeyong is older than almost everyone in his grade, and a part of him wishes his parents had pushed him forward instead of keeping him back the extra year — senioritis is looking like a pretty picture these days. He's tired of classes already. He wants his degree and a full night's rest. He envies Johnny and Sehun and everyone else who are getting ready to be free of university.

If he hadn't taken all those dance classes Taeyong probably could look to graduate in seven semesters instead of eight, but he also can't bring himself to regret it. It's just annoying.

He's jealous that he didn't have the forethought to take more AP courses in high school, but what's done is done.

He doesn't think about how some of his friends are going to be leaving when the semester ends. There's a few months before then for things to solidify. That's what he tells himself instead of staying up late at night worrying about it. There's no point.

It feels like a big step forward when he's able to pick the thoughts up and set them aside.

Taeyong doesn't sleep well, but he does sleep.

His weekly lunches with Mina and Ilhoon have pittered into non-existence, but Taeyong only allows himself to be sad about it when he has the time, and he rarely does these days. His small social circle has branches now, if only because he's willing to see them. Ten has been clingier than usual — his normal days consist of seeing any number of friends, but he's a little fragile after the events of last week. He's not quite a shadow, but Taeyong notices the way he's afraid of going certain places alone. Taeyong wonders where he normally met Kun. He wonders if Kun has texted Ten or if Ten has taken the power given to him and made the first move. He wonders what Ten thinks about it. He wonders if Ten is happy, or willing to be happy.

He thinks that Ten needs more alone time than he allows himself.

"Do you know a Kun?" he asks Johnny randomly during lecture, in a hushed whisper.

"Yeah," Johnny replies. He grins. "Why? You interested?"

"Don't." Taeyong rolls his eyes. "Do you know him well?"

"No. He keeps to himself. We're friendly though. He's been over when we throw parties before." Johnny keeps his eyes on the professor, typing up whatever she's writing on the white board. His fingers are very long. Taeyong is noticing more things about Johnny lately. Like the fact that he needs a haircut. Taeyong wants to braid it. "I haven't seen him recently."

Taeyong hums. "I think Ten's in love with him."

Johnny pauses his typing. " _Ten?_ "

"You didn't hear it from me," Taeyong says primly. "Actually, you didn't hear it at all, okay? I'm not sure even Ten knows."

"You're an expert on these things now, hmm?" Johnny's smile is gentle.

Taeyong pauses. "No," he admits, brittle. "Maybe. I don't know."

He really doesn't.

There are a lot of things Taeyong should be thinking about, but it's easier if he doesn't. He thinks about Johnny more than he should and yet somehow not enough. His mother has noticed there's something on his mind. Ten gives him pointed looks when his phone pings in the middle of the night, when only college students and pizza delivery are awake.

Johnny doesn't give him pointed looks. Johnny just exists beside him and Taeyong likes it. God, does Taeyong like it.

It scares him, because it's slowly becoming a comfort, and that's never happened to him before. Taeyong can't remember the last time he's found comfort in another person the way he finds comfort in Johnny. Even with Ten, there's a push and pull. Even with his mother, there are expectations. Even with Mark, there's a responsibility.

He isn't sure what it is with Johnny; it's something else entirely.

Taeyong thinks soon he'll be able to really think about it. Johnny makes him want to think about it.

It's a warm day outside, spring blending into early summer, and Taeyong has leftovers from his mother packed away in his bag. It's nice, the breeze, so when Taeyong sees a familiar face or two sitting at a table outside the student center he takes the chance. "Can I sit with you guys?"

Jaehyun looks up at him and smiles, all dimples. "Sure. We're just bitching."

"I don't bitch," Sicheng says flatly. "These are valid complaints."

Taeyong sets his bag down and takes the empty chair between them. "And these complaints are...?"

"Miss Boa has an Apple Watch and just doesn't use it," Sicheng scoffs derisively. "Like, she has it. It's there. And still she walks all the way across the classroom to turn on the music between combos. Why is it there? What is it for?"

Jaehyun pats his hand absently. "He's just mad."

"She doesn't make _any sense_ ," Sicheng complains to the sky.

"That sounds like bitching to me," Taeyong titters, but he agrees — Boa's misuse of her Apple Watch is the least of her worries. "She made me facilitate my own final last year."

Jaehyun grimaces. "What?"

"She just...didn't show up. She sent me an email and I was supposed to lead the class through the exercises." At the time, it had been mildly traumatic. Now it's just kind of funny. "We finished it in half our time allotment and then we went out to get Panera."

"She disappeared for two weeks while we were preparing to host a conference." There's an ugly curl to Sicheng's mouth, but mostly the both of them are just tired. "She had all the information and didn't give it to anyone else so no one knew what was happening."

"I remember that." Jaehyun laughed. "Yunoh was out of his mind for like a month. He read her texts aloud to the class and told us to spread the word."

"It's like she doesn't know how emails work. I want to die." Sicheng flops back in his seat.

"But her Apple Watch," Taeyong sighs. "The worst."

Sicheng kicks him under the table and Jaehyun snickers into his sandwich.

There's an easy camaraderie between them, and even if Tayeong thinks he might have been interrupting something they welcome him into their conversation with little to no effort.

"Are you going to do the showcase next year, Taeyong?" Jaehyun asks.

Taeyong thinks about it. "If I have the time, yeah." He will have more time next year, and there's extra room to pad his credits if he wants to, but there's an internship he's interested in pursuing with his management professor, and he's not sure what else will be added to his plate. "I'd like to choreograph maybe, but at the very least I'll be in Ten's senior piece. He made me promise."

Jaehyun whines. "Can you pull some strings for me? I want to dance with you once before you go."

Taeyong grins. "Johnny mentioned you were a fan," he says cutely.

"I resent that because he has no room to talk," Jaehyun fires back, but he doesn't deny it. "You should have heard him afterwards. It was Taeyong-this, Taeyong-that. He didn't even know your name."

"Ah." To be fair, Taeyong brought the subject up himself, but now that it's actually coming to compliments he's not really sure what to say. "Some friend, huh? Should have been talking more about you."

Jaehyun shrugs. "I didn't mind. Because, like, same."

Sicheng smiles. His expression is much sweeter now than it was earlier. "The heart wants what it wants."

"The Taeyong talk is way worse these days." Jaehyun's eyes glint mischievously. "You spent the night, huh? You dog."

Taeyong chokes on his soup. "Nothing happened."

"I heard there was _cuddling_ ," Jaehyun stage-whispers.

Sicheng laughs. "It's good though. Johnny could use it these days."

"Why?" Taeyong wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. "Is he worried about graduation?"

Jaehyun's smile is slightly less easy. "Kind of."

"He didn't tell you?" Sicheng asks.

Taeyong frowns. "He hasn't mentioned anything to me." The past few times they've talked have been cheerful banter or Taeyong having a breakdown. There's very little in-between. Taeyong thinks maybe he should ask, if the look on Sicheng's face is anything to go by.

"Oh." Sicheng takes a measured sup of his soda. "I probably shouldn’t have said anything, then."

"What's wrong?"

"He's just stressed out about his job," Jaehyun says, with a shrug. Taeyong tries not to analyze it, see how calculated the calm demeanor is. "Like, he has one set up and everything. He's just deciding. You know how it is."

Taeyong stirs his soup thoughtfully.

"He'd probably tell you about it," Sicheng says, "if you wanted to ask."

It's strange, maybe, that Johnny is not telling Taeyong something. Not because Taeyong expects to know everything — in reality, Taeyong is okay with the concept of private fears — but because Johnny himself is so comfortable and open. There's never been the hint of something hidden. Taeyong supposes that's unfair of him to expect. No one is completely open all the time. Taeyong himself is more reserved than most people, and Johnny sits on the other end of that spectrum.

Or maybe he doesn't.

Taeyong isn't sure if Johnny not telling him something is a flaw on Johnny's part or his own, but he's willing to bear the weight of it.

_One like and I'll do something stupid_ he texts Ten.

_Like_ is the immediate response. _If you didn't want to be enabled you wouldn't have texted me of all people._

Taeyong really loves Ten. He really, truly does.

Something stupid is Taeyong stepping out of his comfort zone. Whether that's truly stupid or not is beside the point, because he already has his one like and his reserve of courage is ready to be tapped.

He texts Johnny.

**Johnny**

Thoughts on food trucks

It's eleven

Yes  
Thoughts on food trucks

Very positive

Let's goooooo

 

There's are benefits to living in a college town, the largest of which being that everything is open obscenely late. Taeyong rolls into Johnny's driveway long past sunset and laughs as Johnny pushes the seat back again and they head further into town.

"Mission Taco, Mission Taco, Mission Taco," Johnny chants, hopping out of the car. "If you buy me tacos I'll win you something from the crane game."

"We'll see which one of us is the more expensive date," Taeyong agrees, and it's worth to see the high blush on Johnny's cheeks, and the sweet smile, and they link elbows and walk down the boardwalk.

Some things Taeyong cherishes more than others. Taeyong enjoys the ease of it, and he'd be lying if he said they weren't compatible. They are. Everything Johnny does reminds Taeyong that he's moving forward. Everything Johnny does is new and some mixture of strange and comfortable and when Johnny's hand slides down to hold his own it feels good. Even if Taeyong feels like he's about to pop, overfull, it's good.

Johnny is something that Taeyong sorely needed; a push in the right direction.

Or, rather, a soft place to land.

Still.

"What are you planning on doing after graduation?" Taeyong ventures. He has half of Johnny's taco in one hand and a churro in the other, and Johnny has taken a break from the crane game to scarf down cheap Mexican food and maybe some ice cream.

It's a simple question that isn't simple. Taeyong remembers everyone asking him what his plans are and where he sees himself in five years and none of it is simple, but people ask these questions and expect cut-and-dry answers. Taeyong doesn't expect that from Johnny.

He might be asking to test the waters, but he cares enough he wants to know. He really, truly wants to now.

Because when he sits down and thinks about where he's going to be next year and Johnny isn't there his heart falls, just a bit, and that's another reason Johnny is worth keeping around. If Taeyong was going to list every reason, it'd be overwhelming, rambling and scrawled in the margin's of every book Taeyong's ever read.

Johnny smiles. "I've got something lined up in the city. It's an internship with a major music distributor."

"Oh my God," Taeyong squeezes Johnny's hand. "That's awesome! And it's close?"

"And it's close." Johnny laughs. Taeyong listens closely and hears it — the quiver of a lie. "Honestly, it's ideal. Lots of connections and room for growth and I don't even have to find a new roommate."

"Ideal," Taeyong replies with a gentle hum. "You accepted it?"

Johnny pauses. "Yeah." He takes a deep breath. "I'd be stupid not to."

Taeyong purses his mouth. "If it's what you want, then I'm happy for you."

It's dark outside, but in the light of the neon shop lights, Johnny looks at Taeyong quietly. Considering. "How's Donghyuck?" he asks eventually.

"He's okay." Taeyong releases a breath he was very consciously holding. A moment passes. "I haven't talked to him, but him and Mark are dealing with things a little better."

"Are they back together?"

"No." Taeyong smiles peacefully. "They're both too stubborn. But maybe soon."

There's a nice breeze, and the night is loud and quiet in all the right ways, and Johnny pulls him a bit closer as they walk on the curb. "You're a good person," he says eventually.

Taeyong swallows thickly. The lights they pass by make Johnny look a little different as each second passes. "Every day, it gets a little bit easier to be better," he says, eventually. "I won't like...I'm not always happy with the person I am."

"You should be."

"So should you," Taeyong mumbles. He matches Johnny's steps, right left right left. "I know that...whatever is going on between us is maybe not...as...I don't know." He huffs. "I know that it's difficult—"

"It's not." Johnny pulls him to a halt. "Taeyong, being with you isn't difficult for me." He says it so earnestly.

"Johnny." Taeyong sighs. "It's just...you can't say that things would be the same if it was someone less..." Frigid. Or, whatever Taeyong is these days. Half-melted. "Me."

Johnny opens his mouth to say something in response and thinks better of it. "I'll spend as long as it takes convincing you that you're worth it." He's still holding Taeyong's hand, and he brings it up to his chest. Taeyong can feel his heartbeat, even. "To me, you're worth it."

Taeyong's voice is stuck in his throat. "I want to be worth it for you," he says eventually.

"Can I?" Johnny asks, and Taeyong isn't sure what he's going to do but it reminds him so much of the beginning and even then he trusted Johnny enough to say yes without seeing the next step.

Johnny pulls Taeyong into his chest, his arms tight around Taeyong's shoulders, and holds on for dear life.

Taeyong's hands link around Johnny's back, and they stand out in the open, wrapped up in each other without shame, and it's liberating. It's so liberating. Johnny's cheek is pressed against his hair. Johnny's fingers are wrapped in his shirt. Johnny's heartbeat is flush against Taeyong's chest.

For once, Taeyong's brain is blissfully silent.

"You can talk to me, you know," Taeyong whispers into Johnny's shoulder. "I want you to talk to me."

"I am talking to you," Johnny says, and he sways them both back and forth. "You don't need to worry about me. You worry about everything so much."

"Try and stop me." Taeyong worries about the things he cares about, and will always worry about the things he cares about.

"I will." Johnny pulls away, grins. "I always will."

Taeyong hates the way his heart clenches.

"Come on." Johnny grabs his hand and tugs him along. His fingers are sticky with melted ice cream. "I told you I'd win the crane game."

 

* * *

 

The sawfish Johnny wins him sits on Taeyong's dresser, and Taeyong's heart hasn't recovered.

If Johnny doesn't want Taeyong to worry, then he'll try not to. But it's hard when he's learning to trust himself more. It's hard to push aside that small something bubbling up. It's a decision he thinks he'd rather make in the morning.

Taeyong holds the plushie to his chest and falls asleep.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong expects things to fall apart. He doesn't want them to, never says so out loud, doesn't want to speak it into existence, but all his denial can't stop frayed threads from snapping. It's another harsh reality about adulthood — wishes don't matter much anymore.

He's over at Johnny's house. It's Friday, late, which means that Johnny is stalling until he has to leave for the recording studio, _Night Night_ notes sprawled out over the floor. Taeyong is laughing. He doesn't remember what he's laughing about. Johnny is close. Their feet at touching on the couch. The room smells like chocolate.

Taeyong's phone rings.

He's still laughing when he picks it up to answer. It's Mina, a selfie of the two of them displayed on his screen, and he grins. "Hey! What's up?"

It's weird. Phone calls are inherently distant, removed, but she doesn't have to say a single word and Taeyong already knows that something is wrong.

"Yongie, oh my God. Thank God." She sniffles. Her voice is too high. "I need your help."

There's heavy bass in the background, distinctly at odds with the coziness of Johnny's living room. People are talking, and the din makes it hard to hear, but her panic is clear. "What's going on?" Taeyong asks, and the shift in his tone makes Johnny looks up from his notes sharply. "Are you alright?"

Someone calls her name in the background, Taeyong thinks, but it's hard to tell. "Yeah — fuck — I'm fine. Just...hold on." There's mumbling, something is muted, chaos. _Have you seen him?_ he thinks. His heart sinks like a ship in a storm. "It's Ilhoon."

"Of course it's Ilhoon." God. Taeyong is so tired. This rubber band has been pulled taut for too long. It's exhausting. Taeyong is exhaust; he hates himself for it. "What's wrong?"

"He won't stop." Mina is close to tears, and his heart aches for her. They both know how Ilhoon is at his worst, and it's heartbreaking to see. "I've been trying but...I can't do it by myself. I'm sorry — I don't know what else to do."

Taeyong's eyes flutter to Johnny, and the look on his face is grim. Almost angry. Taeyong wonders if it's mirrored on his own face. "Where are you?" he asks, and she tells him. "I'm on my way."

Johnny sighs, but he doesn't say much as he starts gathering up his notes. "I should probably leave soon anyway," he says begrudgingly. "But let the records show I don't like it."

"Noted." Taeyong smiles at him, and it's hard but it's worth it. "I'd rather be with you, anyway."

"Don't tell Ilhoon that." It's surprisingly bitter.

"Oh, he knows."

Johnny hums. He puts his hand atop Taeyong's head, a simple goodbye. "Be careful."

"Of course." Taeyong laughs. "He's just drunk. He's not dangerous."

There's a strange look in Johnny's eyes that makes Taeyong think neither of them have forgotten Taeyong's first visit here, crying on the kitchen counter. There's danger in words. But Taeyong is stronger now.

"I'll be careful." Taeyong grabs the hand on his head and kisses Johnny's wrist, sweet. "I'll text you."

And then he's out the door.

It's a short drive. Taeyong knows the house. It's Taeil's house, a grad student, but the party is probably thrown by Yuta, his much more energetic roommate. Taeil himself is friendly, though odd, and only in short bursts, which is how Taeyong knows the address. Yuta dances, but Taeil studies, and he and Taeyong know each other better from the library than Taeyong and Yuta know each other from the studios.

He'd be surprised if he sees Taeil here tonight. When Taeyong gets to the house he has to park a block away. Taeil enjoys a party as much as the next grad student, but he has a strict bedtime and a low alcohol tolerance.

Taeyong keeps his keys in hand and he goes up to knock on the door.

He doesn't recognize the girl that opens it. She's tall and intimidating and there's glitter on her eyelids. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm here to pick up my friend," he says casually, and she nods, opening the door.

"It's a little early for DDs," she says. She's less intimidating when she smiles, but she doesn't offer her name so Taeyong doesn't offer his.

"He's a little messy, I'm told." Taeyong inspects the house. It looks a lot different, filled to the brim with college students drinking away the stress of exam season. "His name is Ilhoon — have you seen him?"

The girl shakes her head with a frown. "Yuta might know. He's in the backyard." And then she's waving him away and headed back to the dining room.

Taeyong doesn't make it to the backyard. He tells Mina he's here and heads in that direction, but she intercepts him before he can properly greet the host. "Oh, thank you. TY, thank God." Her eyeliner is smudged at the corner and she smells like beer. Taeyong wonders if she drank and that's why things got out of hand — he can't remember the last time she had to call him on a night like this. Still, there's something desperate. "I don't...I lost him." She might cry. "I didn't want to call you. This is a terrible idea."

Taeyong hugs her, and her shoulders shake but not enough to push her over the edge into a breakdown. She takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I should have brought you here, but." She looks up at him, sets her shoulder. "I can't do this." She smooths her hair down and smothers the anxiety under the music and force of will. "I'm tired of this."

"Me too," and although he's agreeing with her she doesn't look happy about it. Her expression mirrors Johnny's earlier, mouth a straight line, hard.

"I think he went downstairs," she says eventually, and they both push through the crowd towards the basement.

Taeyong looks out of place. He's wearing Johnny's high school sweatshirt and his face is bare. There was a time when he would care. Even next to Mina in sequins, he doesn't. He just wants to get this over with.

They both know what's coming, if they'd admit it to themselves. It's why they're so sober.

Taeyong turns his phone on vibrate, as loud as it can go, and the two of them agree to search the basement separately. "I'll call if I find him," Mina says. "He's just...he won't listen to me."

"He won't listen to me either," Taeyong reminds her, but he's stronger than he looks — stronger than Mina is, in any case. She stiffens her upper lip and goes into the throng of people.

Taeyong goes over to the pool table. There's a stray solo cup in the middle the players are trying not to spill. "Hey, man." The closest guy turns around, and Taeyong vaguely recognizes him from the last couple of parties he went to. "Have you seen Ilhoon?"

He looks at Taeyong, punch dumb. The drink in his hand looks wicked. "Which one?"

"Tall, handsome, probably angry."

"He went back there," the guys says — God, Taeyong wishes he could remember a name. It will hit him in three hours and he'll hate himself. "Bathroom, I think."

Taeyong passes by the circle of smokers and beelines for the hallway.

Somehow, Ilhoon finds him first.

"Yongie!" he calls, and the sweetness in his voice is alarming. Ilhoon is rarely a happy drunk. His arm is slung around another girl who is staring disinterestedly at her phone while another boy braids her hair. "Guys, he's here."

"Finally," the girl drawls, and she looks at Taeyong critically. "Good luck."

The boy braiding her hair stifles a laugh.

"If you don't mind," Taeyong says plainly, gesturing towards the open door, and the girl seems more than happy to give the two of them some privacy, pulling the boy behind her by the collar.

There's an empty bottle of tequila on the floor, and Taeyong really hopes they split it three ways, but it stinks in the bathroom and his hopes are low. Ilhoon throws his arms around Taeyong's neck, his skin damp. "I missed you."

"Yeah." Taeyong tries not to sound over it. Ilhoon has his face pressed into Taeyong's neck and Taeyong lets it happen. "What are you doing, Ilhoon?"

"Having fun," is the answer, like it's a good one.

"You look miserable," Taeyong points out, pushing Ilhoon upright. His eyes are red, too, but the raw tension of it all is too much for him being baked. It's weird, because Ilhoon's words are soft but his eyes are wild. "I thought you were going to stop drinking."

"You thought wrong." Ilhoon grins. "Want some?"

"You drank it all," Taeyong reminds him with a sigh. "Come on, man, let's find Mina and get you home."

"Don't wanna go home," Ilhoon says mulishly, sitting down on the toilet. "Want to talk to you. Haven't talked in so long."

There's something in the air tonight that makes Taeyong feel sad and bitter. "Whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Ilhoon mutters into his hands.

Taeyong rolls his eyes, takes out his phone, texts Mina — _I found him_ —

Ilhoon snatches it out of his hand with a low noise, deep in his throat. "Texting Sehun?"

"No." Taeyong huffs.

"Johnny?"

" _No_." Taeyong shakes his head incredulously. "Is that what this is about? Us not talking? Is it because of Johnny?" It's a dangerous question, because it leads to dangerous conversation, but too much has been buried too deep and Taeyong wants it dredged up.

"No." Ilhoon sets his jaw, and he does look a bit dangerous. "It's because of you."

Taeyong doesn't think so. Maybe he did, but he doesn't now. "This is because of _you._ " Harsh. "We don't talk about more because of _you._ " He tries to pluck the phone out of Ilhoon's hands, but obviously he doesn't try hard enough. Even drunk, Ilhoon keeps it out of Taeyong's reach. Taeyong is too tired to play games.

"You're always with _Johnny_ and before that it was all about _Sehun_."

It's a gross exaggeration. It was never all about Sehun, and the fact that Ilhoon still thinks Sehun is even in the picture shows how out of touch they've been. "I don't know why you're so hung up on who I'm dating." Although he does know, and he's known for a couple of weeks.

Ilhoon's expression darkens, and this is the Ilhoon from Johnny's backyard. "You're dating now."

"Maybe."

"You're pathetic."

Taeyong scoffs. "Yeah. A desperate whore. Can we fast-forward and go home?" He's prepared for this conversation and he wasn't before. He’s not a good enough person to be gentle. Maybe Johnny would be, but Johnny is better than Taeyong is, anyway.

It's wrong, a mistake. Ilhoon tosses Taeyong's phone to side and it clatters in the ceramic of the sink. Taeyong doesn’t have the opportunity to complain about it before Ilhoon is looming in his space. "What is wrong with you?" Ilhoon demands, hands grabbing Taeyong's shoulders. "Why can't you make up your fucking mind?"

"What's wrong with _me?_ " Incredulous. "Have you looked at yourself?"

"I've always been this way," Ilhoon says, and it's heavy. "You get fucked once and all of a sudden—"

"I don't want to hear it," Taeyong snips, putting his hands on Ilhoon's chest. No amount of pushing will get Ilhoon to step away, but he tries despite it. "That's not how it is and you know it. You already apologized for this fucking conversation once — you really want to play this fucking game again?"

"There it is." Ilhoon almost sounds pleased. "My harsh Taeyong."

Taeyong swallows. "I'm not your anything, Ilhoon." Deflates, like a balloon. "I'm not even your friend."

Ilhoon's mouth quivers, and his hands tighten on Taeyong's arms. "What makes him so different?"

An echo. Taeyong had been truthful the last time.

"Because I can fall in love with him," Taeyong admits to himself for the first time. "I'll never be able to do that with you."

Taeyong doesn't regret saying it, but it's not what Ilhoon wants to hear. Johnny would be upset with him — be careful, sure — but it needed to be said.

Ilhoon pushes and Taeyong is unsteady and his back hits the wall. "That isn't fair," Ilhoon says, low. "You never tried."

Taeyong counts to three. "Ilhoon, that's not—"

_Be careful_.

Warning bells ring but Ilhoon is already in his space. Now, Taeyong curses his new found boldness. Reserved Taeyong would not find himself here, in a small bathroom in a strange house with someone trying to take what isn't his — or maybe he would. Ilhoon isn't making rational choices.

There are lips on Taeyong's jaw first, his neck and back again, and Taeyong tells Ilhoon to stop, pushes him away, because Ilhoon is his friend and also a grown ass man and should know better, but it doesn't work. Taeyong puts his palm over his mouth just in time and shoves Ilhoon aside, shaking with rage. He scratches at Ilhoon's neck when he won't move back, keys still in hand.

It's surreal, the look on Ilhoon's face when he puts a hand to skin and his fingers come away bloody, or the feeling in the air when they both realize what's happened.

Taeyong spits on the floor. "Fuck you. Seriously."

He storms out the door.

Three steps and he's shaking. He's not meant for this. No one is meant for this.

Ilhoon is behind him, and his eyes are back to normal, like he's Taeyong's friend, but Taeyong honestly is done pretending like this is worth it. It was, once. Now his stomach boils acid. "Taeyong—"

"Fuck _off_." Taeyong spins around to face him, rips his hand away, but the force of it pushes him backwards and he hits something, someone.

"Hey, guys." There are hands hovering gently by Taeyong's elbows, steadying him, and the voice is familiar.

It's Lucas. Taeyong can't remember anyone's names ever but he remembers Lucas, from that one time they met in Taeyong's bedroom. He's smiling evenly, and it seems out place. Anyone can tell that something is going on.

Taeyong takes a shaky step to the side. "He's done," he says, pointing an accusatory finger at Ilhoon. "For the night. Forever — he's done." His voice shakes. His body shakes. His hand touches the line of his jaw. He feels wrong.

Taeyong knows that Ilhoon will regret this in the morning. He regrets it now. Taeyong can have some vindication in that, in the shock on his face and ugly scratch on his neck, but Taeyong kind of wants to puke and nothing that Ilhoon says or does is going to change that.

"TY," Ilhoon starts, and then Lucas's hand is on Ilhoon's shoulder.

"Hey, man. Let's talk outside!" He's still smiling.

Mina is standing at the mouth of the hallway, and her face is green. Her hands clutch her phone to her chest. Small. Taeyong knows the feeling.

If Taeyong were feeling better, maybe he'd make a joke. He just wants to go home. "He's all yours," Taeyong tells her softly, saving his vitriol to spit out on the pavement; she doesn't deserve it. "I'm not helping him again."

Ilhoon pushes against Lucas's hold, but for now, it's useless; Lucas won't budge and Ilhoon doesn't have the strength left.

"Ilhoon," Mina says, tired. "Just go."

Taeyong doesn't know if Ilhoon does. He's already gone.

 

* * *

 

Taeyong said he would text Johnny later, but he ends up doing one better; he walks that block to his car, still angry, still shaking, and then somehow finds himself at the studio. He isn't sure what happened between the party and the parking lot. His hands won't let go of the steering wheel.

For a long moment, he sits in his car, still running, running, and tries to convince himself he's under control. Nothing ended up happening. Maybe nothing else would have happened. Maybe everything would have been dealt with even if Taeyong hadn't slid out the bathroom door when he did.

Nothing happened, he tells himself, and he doesn't believe it. His heart won't stop racing. He's hyper aware of his skin; it crawls. Deep breaths.

His feet hit the pavement.

There's a pretty girl in the lobby, Beats around her neck, typing on her computer. She looks up when Taeyong walks inside. "Hey! Can I help you?"

"Uh." It's late and Taeyong looks like a wreck, he's certain, so the twist of concern isn't surprising. "Is Johnny still here?"

She softens, hand going to her headphones to hold them out of the way. "Yeah, hold on." She sets her laptop aside and stands up, snapping her spine into place. "I'll take you to the studio. They should be done soon."

It's the third door on the left. She probably could have directed him there fine, but he's thankful she's removed the possibility of error. She knocks gently on wood, turns the knob. "Joohyun?"

There's another woman inside at the control panel, also with headphones on, and she moves one ear when she seems them walk in. "Wendy, what's up."

Jaehyun and Johnny are on the other side of the glass, just chatting. Johnny is reading something aloud from his notes and Jaehyun is twirling a pencil between his fingers. It's funny, they look normal. Taeyong smells like tequila.

"Johnny has a visitor," Wendy says mildly, leaning against the doorway, and Taeyong peaks his head further inside. Joohyun isn't familiar to him, but maybe she can sense the displacement on his face. Maybe he's radiating panic. Maybe Johnny just regularly has visitors.

"They'll wrap up soon." Joohyun gestures to the seats behind her, a beat up couch in old brocade. "You need anything?"

"I'm okay," Taeyong says delicately, picking his way over to slump down. Exhausted.

Joohyun sets her headphones down on the table and scoots her rolling chair over to the mini fridge. "Here." She tosses him a bottle of water. "Drink up."

It's not very cold, but he's thankful. He says as much, and she nods before returning to her place and setting her headphones on. She types away on her computer.

"They should finish on the hour," Wendy tells Taeyong quietly, still in the doorway. It's only ten minutes left, maybe. "If you need anything I'll be outside and Joohyun is only scary if you're dumb."

Joohyun flips her off without looking away from the monitor, and Taeyong laughs for the first time since he left Johnny's house.

"Someone's here to see you, John," Joohyun says into her microphone whenever the show is over. Jaehyun and Johnny cease their chatting, and apparently Johnny does not get a lot of visitors because he stares at Jaehyun with a bank look on his face. "Good job, boys. Clean up so I can go home."

Johnny walks out of the studio to see Taeyong curled up on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. "Hey," he says, casual, but he's confused enough he stops in the doorway and Jaehyun bumps into him bodily.

"Hey." Taeyong's voice is thick. The empty water bottle is crumpled in his hand. He started crying sometime in the last ten minutes but the tears are dried on his face now, so it's not a big deal.

Joohyun and Jaehyun look at each other and enter the recording studio to clean up the equipment.

Johnny takes the cap off his head — his hair looks funny now, flat some places and sticking out in others — and puts it on Taeyong's, pulling it low over his eyes. He helps Taeyong to his feet. "Let's go."

Pushes the door open.

 

* * *

 

They leave Taeyong's car in the parking lot and take Johnny's home. It's a quiet drive back, with Johnny's hand on Taeyong's knee and Taeyong's hand trying to hold onto something tight enough he feels like he won't float away.

"He tried to kiss me," Taeyong says into the silence, halfway to Johnny's house. "I couldn't stop him."

Johnny's silence is loud and angry. Taeyong is grateful he doesn't say anything.

"Sorry," he says, when they've pulled up to the house and Johnny opens the door for him.

"You want me to carry you inside?" Johnny offers.

"Like Donghyuck?" Taeyong smiles. "Maybe."

Not quite like Donghyuck. Taeyong hops onto Johnny's back and rests his head on Johnny's shoulder while the bigger boy lumbers up the porch and unlocks the door. The front light was left on but inside it's dark. Johnny doesn't bother switching it on, and makes easy steps towards the stairs.

"I can get down," Taeyong offers, but Johnny ignores him.

Taeyong holds him close.

"It was my fault," Taeyong says later, when Johnny has set him down on the bed and they're both huddled under the covers. Johnny is still wrapped around him, solid, and Taeyong holds on, tight.

"Don't say that," Johnny says. He's on his back and he says it to the ceiling, not because he can't look at Taeyong, but because if he does he'll say more than he means to. "Don't say that, ever. Don’t think it. It's not your fault."

Taeyong swallows. "I was harsh."

The hand in Taeyong's hair pulls, a mild slap on the wrist. "He's...he shouldn't have touched you. I don't care. Nothing validates him."

Taeyong doesn't need to find the words for how awful he feels. "I don't want to see him ever again." He wonders if the cut on Ilhoon's neck will scar. He hopes it doesn't — he doesn't want any reminders.

"You won't." Johnny's rubs his hand up and down Taeyong's back, up and down, and neither of them sleep. It's a hard night to exist, and Taeyong counts down the seconds like when he reaches one hundred he won't have to anymore. "I told you to be careful."

"Well." Taeyong laughs, a little wet. Johnny's t-shirt is damp under his face, weird. "We both took the L then, huh?"

Johnny sighs, buries his face in Taeyong's hair. Hums.

He has a sweet voice, all things considered, a nice baritone. He's singing too quietly so his voice cracks in and out, and sometimes he goes too high, and sometimes he's flat, but it's a lullaby in all ways.

Taeyong forgets to count his seconds and forgets to hold on tight and drifts away into something easier.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. well. :( Sorry


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tis I. Sorry for the wait but your girl's got a full time job and a bad brain lmao.

Taeyong wakes up alone in Johnny's bed, sheets cool, head pounding.

He can't even be upset that Johnny left him behind when he sees the clock sitting on the bedside table — Johnny is an early riser and it is not early to rise. It's lunch time. Still, it's becoming a pattern, and cuddles are always better in the morning.

Taeyong wraps himself up in a hoodie Johnny discarded on the floor and rubs his eyes as he makes his way downstairs. He fully expects to see Johnny sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book, but Johnny is nowhere to be found.

Sehun is there, working on his computer. He's sitting on the floor, computer set on the coffee table, and he looks up at Taeyong warily when he walks into the room. "Good morning."

It's still a little awkward, but it's hardly going to be the last time they'll stumble upon each other, and Taeyong does feel a little bad for making Sehun uncomfortable in his own home. He bites his lip. "Good morning." He rubs his eyes again. They feel puffy. He feels ugly. Maybe that's better. "Sorry to come over unannounced."

"It's okay," Sehun replies mildly, looking Taeyong head to toe. "You don't need an excuse to see your boyfriend when you're sad."

Taeyong chokes on his own tongue. "He's, um...not..."

"You don't have to explain it to me." Sehun looks back at his computer screen before he realizes how dismissive he sounds. Taeyong can see him struggle to find the words. "I hope...everything's okay."

"I don't really think so, but..." Last night was a nightmare. "Do you know where Johnny is?"

Sehun frowns. "He went out."

"Like... _out_ out?" Taeyong eyes the half-empty cup of coffee sitting by the couch, too far away to be Sehun's. Odd. "Is he okay?"

"He looked kind of mad, but." Sehun swallows, expression tight. "He said he was just running errands."

"What's he mad at, the empty milk carton?" Taeyong asks with a laugh. Sehun smiles a little.

"Sometimes he gets in moods." Sehun shrugs. "I just assumed that's what it was but..." He eyes Taeyong uneasily. It's easy to tell that Taeyong is upset, or was at some point, and there are gears turning. "You should probably call him."

Easy enough, except when Taeyong walks back upstairs he can't find his phone. It's not in his jeans. It's not on the bedside table, or in the crack between the bed and the wall. It's not by his car keys. It's not downstairs by the entryway.

Taeyong is pretty sure it's still in the bathroom sink at Yuta's house.

He borrows Sehun's phone.

Johnny doesn't answer.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Sehun assures him, taking the phone back. Taeyong's expression is dark.

"He always answers."

Sehun snorts. "When it's you." He rolls his eyes. "I'll let him know you're waiting for him."

Johnny only answers half an hour later — _I'm omw_ — like Taeyong hasn't been close to ripping his own hair out nearly since he woke up this morning. Johnny would tell him not to worry but Johnny isn't here. "This isn't like him."

Sehun chews on his thoughts. "Maybe not." He looks at Taeyong, considers. "Sometimes he gets like this."

"What?" Taeyong asks. "Non-communicative?"

"Angry."

When Johnny walks into the house, that's what he is; angry. And more than that, he's disheveled. The look of him makes Taeyong hold his breath. His lip is swollen and bleeding, his hair is a mess, there's purple on his cheekbone. A fist against skin, that’s what Taeyong is seeing, the aftermath. Taeyong can guess whose hand it was.

Johnny doesn't look like he regrets anything.

There's harshness in his eyes, something cold, and it's so unlike him — or unlike what Taeyong knows of him. But, perhaps they haven't known each long enough for Taeyong to make that kind of call. Johnny closes the door behind him and toes his shoes off and stands in the foyer, bared.

They stare at each other in the living room, waiting for a move to be made.

Taeyong closes his eyes, releases what he's been holding. "Oh, Johnny."

Sehun's computer is left on the coffee table, unattended, his coffee long cold, and Taeyong is grateful Sehun left him to wait on his own, because he feels rather fragile.

"Where have you been?" he asks after a moment.

Johnny swallows. It's visible, his stall. "I had some errands to run."

Taeyong laughs. "What kind of errands? You went to pick up toilet paper and it punched you in the face?" However funny an image, it seems unlikely.

There's the regret. Johnny can barely look him in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Taeyong can guess. "Johnny, what the fuck happened?"

Most people make rash decisions in the heat of the moment, but it seems as though Johnny slept on it. Taeyong isn't sure whether that's better or worse.

Johnny shoves his hands in the pocket of his jeans. Taeyong sees red on his knuckles. "I just went to talk to him."

Taeyong takes a moment. "Ilhoon?" He doesn't necessarily need to ask, and saying the name aloud makes the acid in his stomach churn. He laughs, and it doesn’t sound like him. "I'm sure you just went to talk." A little bitter.

"I did." Johnny sets his jaw. Everything about him rings differently. He's still standing in the doorway, wary, in his own home. "It's not my fault he didn't want to."

Ilhoon is not emotionally stable enough to have the kind of conversation Johnny wanted to have without pushing back, but Johnny knows that. "You were looking for a fight." Taeyong can picture it — Johnny walking up looking like a storm and Ilhoon snapping in the middle. There was never going to be a good ending.

Johnny doesn't deny it. The bruise on his cheek is blooming. "He shouldn't have touched you." As if that's all this is about.

Taeyong stands up from the couch, setting his tea down on the side table. He shakes. He thinks he's angry. He rarely gets angry. "You don't think you would have done more good to be at my side this morning instead of going off in a rage?" Pointed. "Ilhoon doesn't need a punch in the face, he needs help." Maybe he needs both. Taeyong doesn't know any more. He's not sure why he's so angry, but it's small and compact and vicious, like a bullet. He needs someone to direct it at, but there’s no one but Johnny. Taeyong knows Johnny doesn’t deserve it. Or maybe he does.

"He needs a lot of things," Johnny answers. The shape of his mouth — Taeyong is furious, the line is so angry. "Taeyong, you can't expect me to just sit back when someone makes you cry. I can't do that."

"You could have _talked_ to me first!" Taeyong insists. He wishes Johnny had just waited until Taeyong was awake. He wishes Johnny hadn’t left. He wishes Johnny hadn’t hurt his friend but also can’t find it in his heart to forgive Ilhoon for hurting him last night. He thinks about Johnny and Ilhoon hurting each other and wants to vomit. He thinks about Ilhoon from last night and wishes he felt what Taeyong felt. Taeyong’s head pounds.

Sehun can certainly hear them in his bedroom. Taeyong wonders whose side he's on.

"Where is this even coming from? You seem..." He looks Johnny head to toe. "You weren't like this last night." Or maybe he was.

Last night, Johnny hid Taeyong's tears and held him in bed and sang to him and he was there, all soft edges, a pillar. The Johnny that Taeyong has come to recognize as his.

It's like Taeyong is looking at a different person.

It pops the balloon. Johnny's shoulders slump. "I'm just pissed." He runs a hand through his hair. "People shouldn't do that to people. He says he _loves_ you?" Scoffs. "It's disgusting. He's—"

" _Johnny—_ " They're too far apart. Taeyong walks around the couch, stepping closer, and Johnny tenses again. He reaches out, hands grasping at nothing. He thinks of the bathroom, and that trapped feeling, and lips on his neck, and decides that even if Ilhoon deserves retribution it’s not something Taeyong wants to give him. "I can't...I don't even want to think about it. I don't want you running around town trying to fight for my honor!"

"Well, you should." Johnny puts his hands on Taeyong's shoulders, stares him right in the eye, but Taeyong can't look away from the swell on Johnny's lip. He needs ice. "Taeyong, someone has to protect you from shit like that."

"No." Taeyong shakes his head, shrugging Johnny off. "I spent all morning freaking out because you were nowhere to be found and didn't fucking _say_ anything and yeah, maybe I want to yell and scream at Ilhoon but I'd rather try to be _okay_." He pulls at his own hair. "I want to...I don't know! I want to go out for lunch and maybe watch a movie and see if I feel better at the end of the day!"

He is more important than Ilhoon right now, that’s what Taeyong decides.

"I couldn't sleep!" Johnny pushes back. Big and brewing. "Do you know how fucked up it was, seeing you like that? I couldn't stop thinking about it."

"You can blame whatever you want, Johnny." Tired. "But I never asked you for this."

"Taeyong." Johnny works his jaw back and forth, like he's measuring the weight of his words. "You won't fight for yourself. I know you won't."

"But I did." He did. Taeyong holds himself around the middle. "And when I was done I went and found you, and then you left."

Johnny purses his mouth. Taeyong reaches up, tentative, to smooth out the collar of Johnny's shirt, a white flag.

"I'm not..." Taeyong shakes his head. He can't find the words. "I know that you...you're so supportive. And that lets me — lets me support myself, I guess." He frowns. "I can handle some of my own weight these days." He looks at the bruise on Johnny's cheek before his gaze slips to Johnny's eyes. Heavy. "And some of yours, if you'd let me."

"This isn't about me." His voice is soft and familiar.

"Johnny." Taeyong isn't sure what he wants to say, but it needs to be said, and he didn't get the words out before, so he tells himself he'll keep talking until something hits the bullseye. If that's the only way, that's what he'll do. "You woke up and left me to go hurt someone else." He shakes his head. He can't wrap his mind around it. "Was that about _me?_ Because that's not what I want."

"Of _course_ it's about you." It should be an accusation, but the words are so tender. The concern on Johnny's face, that's familiar. The softness in his voice, familiar. The cut on his lip, inconceivable. Two parts of a man Taeyong is realizing he doesn't fully understand. "Taeyong, the fact that he even thought he could do that, deserved that, even drunk — that's not okay."

"I know." Taeyong looks at Johnny's boots left on the floor. "Johnny, he probably knows that, too." It didn't stop him from doing it. "He needs more than your guardian angel schtick. You doing this didn't help me or him or anybody."

Gently, Taeyong leans his forehead against Johnny's chest. He's so tired. He feels dirty and wrung out and he can't track all of the places his feelings are leaking. Cracks and fissures. "I can't even...say I'm not vindicated you did it." He's angry and hurt and maybe he wants Ilhoon to hurt, too, but it's an ugly feeling. "But I still wish you didn't."

Johnny slowly lifts his arms and wraps them around Taeyong's waist. Holds him close. "I'm sorry," he says again. He means it more, this time. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Taeyong laughs. "You're always going to worry me." It's in his nature. "But...I really wish you had just talked to me instead."

"I thought you didn't want to be reminded."

"Not sure that's plausible." Taeyong sighs. "Johnny...I'm worried because this isn't like you. And I...maybe we don't know each other as well as we should."

Johnny just holds on tighter.

"But I'd like to." Taeyong pulls away, looks up, traces the pads of his fingers over the swell of Johnny's lip. The blood is dried. "He got in a couple good hits."

The small smirk suggests Johnny got in a few hits of his own, but Taeyong doesn't ask and Johnny doesn't offer.

"I wish..." Taeyong purses his mouth, eyes far away, fingers still on Johnny's chin. "I'm not as delicate as...maybe I was." A lot of that is because of Johnny. A lot of that is because of Taeyong. "If this is how you really feel sometimes...I wish you would trust me with that."

Johnny takes a breath, opens his mouth to speak, but comes up short.

Taeyong gives the silence a moment. "And if you're not talking to me I wish you'd talk to somebody." Before he goes off and makes decision he's going to regret.

There's something churning between them, something hard to name, but Taeyong is now aware that there's more going on in Johnny's head than he's privy to, and perhaps Taeyong has been the more open of the two. It's a weird thought, that Johnny is open with his affections and closed off with his worries, where Taeyong is never sure how he feels and is too much of a mess to properly hide anything.

"I like you a lot," he says plainly. "I worry about you because I like you so much." He cups Johny's face in his hands. "I don't know if...I've said that out loud." He did, last night — _I could fall in love with you_ , if Taeyong had the courage, he could say it now. "I know you're waiting for me and I know that has to be hard on you."

"It's not," Johnny tells him. "I'll wait for you as long as you need."

"And that's _hard,_ " Taeyong presses. Laughs. "You can't tell me it's easy to be unsure for so long." He bites the inside of his cheek. "So, surely, I like you." He smiles, weak. "And I think I'll like you for a long time, but I'd like to like all the parts of you instead of just the ones you think I can handle."

Taeyong takes Johnny's hand and kisses the splits on his knuckles, runs his thumb over the marred skin.

Johnny watches him. "I like you so much." Thick.

"Good." Taeyong grins, tries not to shake with relief. "Don't leave me next time." He kisses the bruise on Johnny's cheek. "I don't forgive you for it."

"That's okay." Johnny holds Taeyong closer, buries his face in Taeyong's hair. "We'll work on it."

Taeyong hums. "Sounds good."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong doesn't stay over that much longer. He thought maybe he'd like to, to be around Johnny who has always been a comfort, but he finds himself longing for his own bed. Emotionally, he's exhausted. Physically, he's also exhausted.

He gets a bag of peas from the freezer and laughs as Johnny winces, trying to get the swelling down, and tells him he deserves it for going out to look for trouble, but there's some part of him that's thankful someone cares enough to protect him.

It's hard for Taeyong to sort out his feelings. He thinks about hurting Ilhoon last night and feels sick to his stomach, but he thinks about Johnny doing it and almost wishes he was there. He thinks he would have stopped it, if he'd seen it, but there are two Ilhoon's in Taeyong's brain — his friend and a monster, and the two don't connect.

Does Taeyong really want to process everything, when he knows he'll feel worse when he does? Maybe it's better in the long run, but the journey there is long and Taeyong doesn't have the energy for it.

Still, once he knows Johnny is taken care of, Taeyong decides it's time to go.

"I should let my friends know I'm okay," he says eventually. "And I have homework."

"That's disgusting." Johnny is whining. It's cute. There's a plushie tucked under his arm, and they're halfway through Hercules on Netflix. It should be comfortable, but Taeyong is itching somewhere deep. "I'd like it if you stayed."

Taeyong would like it if he stayed. "I should go," he replies, gently.

Johnny's face falls.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Taeyong offers, kissing the top of Johnny's head. Johnny's smile gives him enough strength to get out the door.

Ten is beside himself when Taeyong walks into their room. "Taeyong." His eyebrows are knit. "Where have you fucking been?" His phone is clutched in his hand, white-knuckled.

Taeyong had forgotten about his phone, honestly, and the possibility that someone had tried to contact him. "Hi," is the first thing he says, with a wince. "I was...with Johnny."

"That's odd," Ten says, chilly, "because Mina told me something terrible and I've been trying to call you for _five hours_."

"I lost my phone," Taeyong replies, weak.

Ten stares at him for a moment, and the thin veneer of his anger melts into the floorboards. "I hate myself," he says into the air. It's not what Taeyong expects. "I should have told you."

Taeyong laughs. "Told me what? That he was in love with me?" It's a rock in his stomach. "I kind of knew."

"You should have known earlier," Ten insists. "I should have told you how...damnit." He rubs his eyes. His skin is splotchy; it looks like he might have been crying, and Taeyong is immediately glad he returned home. Wishes he'd returned home sooner. "I didn't...realize he was so volatile."

"I don't think any of us did." Taeyong wonders how much Ten knows. He's not sure how many of the pieces were clear last night. He wonders how much is guess work.

Ten shakes, white-hot. "Mina did." He tosses his phone on the couch. "That's why she called you. She was afraid of him."

Taeyong accepts it quietly. Thinks on it. Doesn't know what to say, but something horribly bitter builds.

"She should have called _me_ ," Ten almost spits, even thought Mina would not have called him. They are only friends through Taeyong, and Ten's fury is more brutal than anything. "If that fucker had tried anything I would have shoved my fucking foot up his ass."

Wordlessly, Taeyong sits down on the couch and takes a deep breath. "I don't think she thought that far," he admits, after a long moment. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, Ten looks heart-broken, heart-breaking. "This should never have happened," he says, and Taeyong agrees.

A million choices, made in a specific order, and if others had been made maybe Taeyong wouldn't be where he is right now, but they were. Taeyong can't find it in himself to be angry at Ten, or at Mina, or at anyone other than himself and Ilhoon. "Do you think..." He pauses. "He's broken, right?" Small.

"Maybe." Ten curls up on the couch, warm against Taeyong's side. "But he broke himself. It's no one else's job to put him back together."

"He's been like this for a while," Taeyong says aloud.

"Yes." Ten sighs. "He wasn't always."

"Mina thinks she can fix him."

"No." Ten laughs. "She just thinks if she doesn't, no one will."

Maybe that's the truth of it all. There are expectations in everything, those others put on you and those you put on yourself, and then everything gets tangled and you can't find your way out.

Taeyong tells Ten the story of last night, pausing once or twice, but holding onto nothing, and by the end of it he's hollowed out and tired. "We've been walking on eggshells for so long," he says. "I just...there's no way that's a friendship." And it hasn't been, despite how much they both had tried.

"This isn't your fault," Ten says. His hands are running through Taeyong's hair. "He put a lot of things on you, but it wasn't just you."

"It never is." Taeyong sighs.

He thinks he's okay. He counts his transgressions on his fingers and finds a healthy amount, but they don't drag him to the bottom of the ocean the way they once did.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive him," he admits, and maybe that's the heaviest thing.

"Maybe you will." Ten's eyes are stone. "But he wouldn't deserve it, just like he never deserved anything else you gave him."

Taeyong is lucky to have people like Ten in his life.

 

* * *

 

Mina finds Taeyong on Sunday. She shows up at his lunch date with Johnny, and she has his phone in her hands. She sets it gently on the table.

"Can we talk?" Mina asks, quiet, and even though Johnny radiates something dangerous Taeyong sees no reason to deny her a conversation.

"Thank you," Taeyong says, once they've stepped away, "for bringing me my phone."

"Yuta held onto it," she admits. Her fingers rake through the split ends of her hair. "I wasn't...sure you'd want to..."

"Thanks," he says again, when he realizes she doesn't have the courage to continue.

Between the three of them, Mina has always been the most sure of herself, the best with her words, and she's standing in front of Taeyong now — "I don't know what to say."

Taeyong doesn't know either. There's no advice he can give her.

She sighs. "I shouldn't have called you." She holds herself together, fingers clutching the strap of her purse like a lifeline. "I know that now. It was stupid." Something shatters. "I didn't want to deal with him by myself."

He counts to ten. "You know...I'm not upset you asked for help," Taeyong says slowly, trying to sort out his thoughts. "But I wish...I wish you'd asked before it got to be so destructive."

"I really don't know what to do," Mina admits. Her fingers flit over the buttons of her dress, nervous. "I've been trying but...God." She laughs. "I know that he needs me but...even on good days it's...and it's not like he listens to me, anyways."

The best advice would be to leave him in the dust, but it took so much for Taeyong to do it himself, and Mina isn't there, yet. A part of him hopes she'll never be there. It's healthy but it hurts.

"I don't think..." Taeyong bites his lip and shakes his head. "Mina, I don't think he needs someone to hold his hair back while he vomits. He needs serious help."

"He won't get it," she says plainly. "I've tried."

"That's his own choice, I guess." Taeyong huffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. Just around the corner, Johnny is still sitting at their table, stirring his drink with his straw. "It's not your job."

Mina hums. "That's cold."

Frigid, even. Taeyong laughs at the irony of it. "Warmth didn't work."

It's funny that all those months ago Ilhoon used that word and it hurt so much, when Ilhoon was one of the few people that Taeyong cared about deeply. And now this. That Ilhoon and this Ilhoon, Taeyong's friend and the monster — he fed them both, for better or worse.

"I don't think he's beyond saving," Taeyong admits, because he loves him. "But you can't do it for him."

Taeyong isn't sure whether she agrees with him or not — the look on her face says he isn't telling her anything new, but the set of her jaw is stubborn. She won't give up on Ilhoon, because she doesn't think she can, and Taeyong doesn't know how to help her when he's only just started to help himself.

"You're a good friend," Johnny says when Taeyong returns to their table. His eyes are dark as he watches Mina exit the restaurant, the bell chiming to signal she's gone. "Maybe too good."

"I don't think so." Taeyong huffs. "I just think neither of us know what to do." He isn't sure which philosophy is right, martyrdom or selfishness.

Taeyong knows he's happier being selfish sometimes.

Johnny's foot taps gently against his ankle. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay." Taeyong sips his drink idly. "I'm glad I talked to her." Even if it sets him on shaking ground. It's hard, to stare conflict in the face and know he'll never get back to where they were. With either of them.

"I..." Johnny looks sad, and reconsiders whatever he might have said. "How is Ilhoon's black eye?"

Taeyong raises his eyebrows. "You gave him a black eye?"

Pause. "No." Johnny moves some of his chicken onto Taeyong's plate. "I would never."

 

* * *

 

The threads of Taeyong's life are so tangled that all of his problems seem tied to each other — you pull on one and the rest seize up into something terrifying — but that's an exhausting way to see the world. Taeyong spends a couple of days in the studios, trying to sort out the threads until they're neat and separate.

He doesn't quite manage it, but he does manage to make Jungwoo laugh and also choreographs almost two minutes of Twice's Fancy with Jaehyun over the course of 48 hours, so it's hard to say the time was wasted.

 _How is your lip?_ he texts Johnny, just before he heads to lecture where he will undoubtedly be able to see the progress with his own eyes.

 _Terrible,_ Johnny replies. _Kiss it better?_

Taeyong sends the vomit emoji, but he kisses Johnny when he sees him. It's a fun game, being around him.

There are still thoughts that hang down, waiting to trip him up, but he hands Johnny his tea and ignores Johnny's annoying emails and kisses him again after Johnny walks him to his next class and he's happy. Truly happy, in a way that buzzes under his skin.

Sure, his problems are real and they stop him where he stands — in his room, in the cafeteria, in the library, the most random of places — but he's fine. He keeps moving forward, if only because he's stubborn to a fault.

Honestly, Taeyong thinks about Mina and Ilhoon both more than he'd like to and less than he feels like he should. Their lunch dates have long stalled but now the time feels empty and nostalgic. Mina doesn't text him to use his car anymore. Ilhoon hasn't said a word. Their group chat is a wasteland.

That's what Taeyong gets, for having so few friends all so wrapped around each other — the supports break and then nothing is left but ruin.

It's too poetic, Taeyong thinks, staring at his half-eaten tuna sandwich, before pulling out his phone and asking Jaehyun if he wants to go out for lunch instead.

In some ways, the way his life is realigning itself is just as good. He still feels the loss, but there are other things to fill his heart with — easier things, like Johnny's smile and Ten's ramblings and Jaehyun's time. Even knowing that things are messy, even the days when sleep won't come because he replays things in his head over and over and over, wishing he'd done this or that or that this decision had never been made, he still wakes up happy. Not always, and not always very much, but the scales are tipping in his favor, slow and sure.

"Do you think loving someone makes you more human?" Taeyong asks Jaehyun.

Jaehyun laughs. "You've loved people all your life, Taeyong. And you've always been human." He steals fries from Taeyong's plate. "Maybe you just feel more human because you've finally got the space to figure things out."

Taeyong tells Jaehyun about Johnny's excursion (he already knew) and Jaehyun tells Taeyong that he's talking to someone. "You know who it is so I don't want to say," he admits, face cherry red. "But it'll be good, I think, if it keeps going."

It's nice to hear that things are going smoothly for other people, at least.

Maybe all of the walls are closing in but Taeyong has the strength now to push them back into place. He pays the bill and Jaehyun promises to give Taeyong more details as they come and it's a nice lunch, without strings or weight.

Taeyong thinks about that feeling for a long time.

"Do you think I need better friends?" Taeyong asks Mark later, when they're FaceTiming in his dorm room.

Mark makes a face. "I mean, I like Ten a lot. Johnny seems nice. Who else is there?"

"Mina and Ilhoon," Taeyong prompts, even if that's not necessarily true. Mark certainly doesn't know what happened, and Taeyong doesn't feel the need to tell him, because then he'll tell his mom, who will tell Taeyong's mom, and his mom doesn't need to worry about him.

"They seemed fine but I don't know them that well." Mark scratches his cheek and looks at Taeyong closely. "Do _you_ think you need better friends?"

"I've made some changes," Taeyong says slowly, sipping a cheap milkshake he got from the student center, strawberry-flavored. "I'm happier right now even if it's only been a few days, but I don't know if it's related."

"From what you've told me, things have been changing for a while." Mark bites his lip. Taeyong can tell he wants to ask, but he knows Taeyong too well — if Taeyong isn't offering it up willingly, he won't appreciate prying. "But it's good that you're in a healthier place now. I was worried about you for a while, dude."

Taeyong frowns. "Why?"

Mark shrugs on the grainy screen. "I don't know. You just seemed really withdrawn and like...unsure. Which I get, you know? Like, man, shit's rough, but...I don't know." He laughs awkwardly. "Just thinking about college stresses me out. No judgement here."

"Hmm." Taeyong stirs his drink. "How is Donghyuck?"

"Mad at me." Still, he says it and his face goes soft. "When is he not mad at me?"

Taeyong thinks of every single time Donghyuck looked at Mark like he'd die for him and keeps his mouth shut. "You kind of fucked up."

"Valid." Mark runs a hand over his face. "I don't know if I want to date long distance," he says, very small. "He's right, though, like...the friendship is worth keeping."

"I think that's what hurt him the most." Taeyong can understand why, despite not getting the full story from either source. It sounds like Mark was throwing everything away, which is stupid, because neither of them want that at all. "He'd do long distance for you, if you wanted."

Mark collects his thoughts for a long moment. "I just don't want either of us to feel trapped."

"You've been best friends for eight years," Taeyong says with a smile. He wishes he had something like that, a forever friend. "I think he's stuck with you, regardless."

Mark's entire stance hinges on him not thinking Donghyuck is worth purposefully keeping around, and maybe Taeyong would believe him if Mark's face didn't melt fondly when he thinks about his friend.

"If things don't work out, they don't work out," Taeyong adds, because sometimes friendships don't last and it's hard. He feels like the worst person to be giving life advice right now, considering that his friend group is in the middle of a huge shift sideways. But there are friends he had in high school he hasn't talked to in years, and other friends he very consciously contacts regularly, and still others that are only Facebook Birthday Friends, and all of those are okay, even if it sucks. "Don't like, wish that on yourself."

For what it's worth, Taeyong thinks Donghyuck will be hanging around for a long time. If Mark is truthful with himself, that’s what he wants.

 

* * *

 

"Stop biting your lip," Taeyong scolds on Thursday in lecture. He comes in late, feeling wrung dry, and he slams the thermos on Johnny's desk, startling him out of his thoughts. "Your lip won't fucking heal."

"Sorry," Johnny says, hand to his chest, blinking up at him before watching Taeyong slide into his seat. "You scared the fuck out of me."

Taeyong laughs, light. "Johnny Seo, not paying attention to me immediately when I walk into a room?"

"Sounds fake," Johnny admits. The bruise on his cheekbone has turned an ugly yellow, and his bad habit of chewing on his lower lip means the split hasn't healed much. Taeyong hums, displeased, but there's nothing he can do about it other than remind Johnny to knock it off.

After their fight, Taeyong isn't entirely sure what to do. Honestly, he feels a firmer foundation, but he's hurt and he's tired and he's still not entirely sure what's going on in Johnny's head. He's lucky, because maybe he's realizing that Johnny is quiet about a lot of things, but Taeyong knows that Johnny likes him. Johnny likes him a lot.

Taeyong likes Johnny a lot.

He swallows a lump down in his throat and pulls out his notes.

There was a time when that would make his hands shake, and maybe they do, but it's more manageable now. There's pressure in his chest. It's okay. He takes a deep breath.

He looks at Johnny. "What were you thinking about so hard?"

Johnny moves to bite his lip, realizes, blows out air instead, but then he smiles and it's beautiful. "Just things."

Taeyong rolls his eyes. "Just things," he teases. "Anything interesting?"

"Yeah." Johnny's still smiling, small and secretive.

"I really hate you," Taeyong says without heat. Their ankles knock together under the desks. "Just tell me."

"You don't hate me, you _like_ me," Johnny sings, beyond pleased, and Taeyong feels himself redden even as he shakes his head. "You _care_ about me."

"Gross," haughty, but Taeyong doesn't deny it. "Feelings, ugh."

And Johnny pauses, still delighted, still smiling. "You don't mean that, do you?" he asks, an ounce more sober. "Like, I know we're in a good place right now and I don't need anything else, but I don't think you mean that."

"No," Taeyong admits. "I mean, feelings are gross, but like—"

"Okay." Johnny's voice is even, expression warm and open. It tugs at something. God, he really is pretty. "That's all I really need."

"Honestly, Johnny." Taeyong shakes his head again, setting up his notes for lecture. The school year is almost over, he thinks, typing in the date. If he scrolls up he can get a good idea of his first interaction with Johnny, dated, Johnny's mildly disjointed notes another page in his file. "You deserve more than that."

"I'll be the judge of that, thanks."

The professor has entered the room, harried, and Taeyong keeps his eyes on her as she organizes her desk and begins writing forcefully on the board.

"If you asked me, I'd say yes," Taeyong tells Johnny. He chances a glance over, and Johnny isn't smiling anymore. His eyes are wide. Taeyong looks back at his computer. "I mean. Probably. I don't know. Never mind."

"Wait, would you really?" Johnny asks, almost frantic like his brain unsynced with the world and he has to skip a few seconds to get back in step.

"Shh." Taeyong purses his lips and points at the teacher. He's embarrassed, his ears are so red, he hates this. "Class is starting."

 

* * *

 

When lecture is over and Taeyong has regained control of himself, able to look at Johnny without wanting to die, he turns in his seat and asks Johnny if he wants to go eat together. It's a casual invitation, one that he's extended before — one that Johnny usually takes.

"Uh, I can't today," Johnny says, standing up. He grabs his own bag and Taeyong's, the thermos of tea tucked under his arm, mostly empty. "I have to go get my haircut."

Taeyong laughs, bemused. "What?" Johnny's hair is a little long, but it still looks good on him, and he's never expressed any desire to cut it before. "Since when?"

"It was a last minute decision," Johnny says easily, still smiling like he has a secret. "Like...right now. Just decided."

Johnny's been weirdly quiet throughout the period, not stupid memes in Taeyong's inbox or random texts on Taeyong's phone. He just sat and listened to the professor, his hands folded over his mouth, deep in thought. Taeyong won't say it's unlike him to be thoughtful, but it is unlike him to not take the opportunity to distract Taeyong, should it arise.

Perhaps he was thinking so hard about his new haircut, Taeyong doesn't have a fucking clue.

"I'll miss your bun," he replies, reaching up to pat the top of Johnny's head. "And braiding it. Rest in peace." He pauses. He tugs his bag out of Johnny's hands. "You'll look handsome."

Johnny just grins. "Thanks." He taps Taeyong on the forehead with the thermos, cheeky. "I have people to impress."

"Other than me?"

Johnny's in a good mood — he smiles with his whole body. "Maybe."

So Taeyong wanders out of his class with Johnny at his side and they split off in separate spaces, but Johnny kisses his cheek before bounding off somewhere and Taeyong is left in the wake, trying to make his feet move.

 _He kissed my cheek_ he sends Ten. _What does this mean?_

Ten never disappoints. _It's means you're That Couple stop rubbing PDA in my face you heathen._

It's a dumb gesture. It's dumb that it makes Taeyong feel kind of floaty. He walks to the student center with a dumb grin on his face — there's no fighting it, so Taeyong succumbs, willingly, to a happy feeling.

Some things are bad, but other things are so good.

Bad things do include not seeing anyone he knows when he walks into the cafeteria, but there are larger problems in the world. Taeyong can grab a to-go box and his problem is easily solved. Other things are harder.

He's in a mild rush to get out of there — he hates spending time in the cafeteria by himself, even though sometimes it's necessary, and maybe that makes him a little less observant than usual. It's not surprising that he runs into someone in his haste, but when he drops his food on the floor all Taeyong feels is bitter disappointment.

"I'm so sorry," someone says, vaguely familiar, and the man's face drops when he recognizes Taeyong.

It takes an extra few seconds for Taeyong to place the face, still crushed over the loss of his carefully curated to-go box, so he stares at the boy, one heartbeat, and then realizes. "Oh," he says, coughing into his fist. "It's not your fault."

Kun's jaw works, thinking about what to say, and Taeyong can see where Ten fell. He really is handsome, in a frightening, classic kind of way. Untouchable, just a bit. Not Ten's type, but Ten's type has never worked out before.

Not that this worked out well, either.

"I'll help you clean it up," Kun says after a moment, with a quiet sigh. He walks over to the napkins.

It's quiet as Taeyong scoops the food back into the box and dumps the entire thing in the garbage. Kun wipes up the floor and Taeyong helps, and they're both more awkward than anything. Taeyong doesn't have any hard feelings towards the other boy. He knows Ten. He thinks Kun knows Ten too, and that's why it's hard.

"Sorry, again," Kun says, throwing the ruined napkins in the trash, and then they both head back towards the food, Taeyong with a new box in hand. "I wasn't looking."

"Honestly, 100% my fault," Taeyong tells him. He bites the inside of his cheek. "I'm sorry, too. I don't see you around very often," — or at all — "I didn't recognize you at first." He bows his head apologetically.

Kun's eyes rake over the dining room. "I'm meeting a friend today. I prefer to cook my own food, but..."

"Me too," Taeyong admits, despite piling more food into his box. "We don't have a kitchen and I don't want to go into the lobby...mostly I think I'm just too lazy. But I prefer cooking."

"Ten mentioned that," Kun says lightly, a white flag. "He talked about you a lot."

Taeyong weighs the possibilities, feels the scales tip in favor of pushing, however gently. "Ten doesn't usually talk much to the people he hooks up with."

Kun smiles, dry. He has a kind face, when it's open. Taeyong thinks he might even seem friendly, when he felt like it. "I never wanted to be a hook up."

The crux of it.

"I'm not sure you ever were," Taeyong says, absent, but perhaps that's more than he needs to say. At the end of the day, Ten's made his own bed. His friend surely won't appreciate Taeyong meddling.

Kun masterfully changes the subject. He's good at talking in ways that Taeyong isn't, and the older Taeyong gets the more he finds he admires that in people, even if Kun's talking in circles is meant to evade rather than push forward.

Honestly, Taeyong is surprised that the other boy has continued talking with him for so long. Despite claiming to be meeting a friend, he stays at Taeyong's side as he remakes his plate and doesn't touch anything himself. He keeps his backpack on, hands in his pockets.

Taeyong carefully closes the box again and asks, "Weren't you meeting someone?"

"I thought I'd walk you out," Kun says easily, even if he's clearly uncomfortable. Taeyong wouldn't consider himself fantastic company, but even if he was charming there's still tension between them, and no one is asking Kun to stay.

"Uh..." Taeyong tilts his head, laughs. "Why?"

Idly, Kun inclines his head towards the dining room. It's subtle, but that's never been Taeyong's strong suit, so he turns all the way around without qualm and catches someone familiar watching him from their table.

Johnny really did give Ilhoon a black eye.

This Ilhoon is not Taeyong's friend, but he's not the monster he was at the party either. This is the one that Taeyong's had to pick up off the floor countless times, miserable, lost, withdrawn. He gets like this. Taeyong and Mina were never enough to put him fully back on his feet, despite what they might have told themselves.

His eyes bore into Taeyong — he might be pleading, or apologizing, or something. But the line between them is broken and Taeyong doesn't owe him anything.

He turns back to Kun, heart-thumping. "I can handle him, you know?" He holds his box tightly.

"I'm sure," Kun replies, hands on the strap of his bag. He keeps his eyes on Ilhoon, now that Taeyong has blown their cover. "But like, also I can walk you out."

Taeyong wonders; had Kun not been there, would Ilhoon have approached him? Would Taeyong have been emotionally prepared for that? He's not sure. "I'll let you, I guess."

Kun knows nothing of Taeyong's weekend. In fact, Kun knows nothing of Taeyong, but he walks with him a little ways out of the student center and waves him goodbye and doesn't ask any questions. He doesn't make promises, either, but Taeyong is thankful for that, too.

Honestly, he isn't sure what he would say.

 

* * *

 

**Johnny**

How did the haircut go~  
Johnny don't ignore me I need pictures

OH it went well lol

Pics or it didn't happen

It happened! Believe it

:((((((((

Oof  
Okay later later

:)))))

Are you flirting with me? :o

I'd never

:(((((((

:)))))))))

 

* * *

 

It's a quiet night. Taeyong could go to the rehearsal studios and try to carve out a space for himself, but most of the rooms are taken up by students practicing for examinations. There's still space for him, if he needs it, but the atmosphere is much more serious that what Taeyong usually looks for in his vices.

On a Friday evening, there should be more happening. The campus itself is bustling, either with people finishing up classes or students getting ready to head out for the night, but there's no part of Taeyong's body that wants to join them.

He ends up sitting alone in his dorm room, watching old videos on YouTube and doing little else.

Ten is out doing whatever it is he does — it used to be parties or hookups, but Taeyong isn't so sure these days. Ten comes back late at night, alone, covered in sweat and disappointment, and Taeyong only ever asks about it the morning. Ten always says it's fine, everything's fine, and Taeyong has played that game too many times to call him out on it.

It's fine.

With a sigh, Taeyong stretches his back out, pushing his headphones down around his neck. The video plays on, and Taeyong mutely watches someone paint an abstract field of lilies that looks more like smears of violet. It's not quite as satisfying without the charming music.

He's bored. His homework sits half-finished on his bed but he doesn't have the motivation to finish it. He called Mark the other day. Ten is busy. Taeyong hums, running a hand through his hair. Sweat drips down his neck but he's too lazy to get up and change the temperature.

Ten texts him, long past the time that Ten usually forgets to think about Taeyong and focuses more on other things — _You'd better open that door_

The YouTube video is still playing and Taeyong is still confused, even as he sets the phone down, even as there's a knock on his door.

And maybe it's worth it for Ten to alert him to the possibility of having to get up, because if he won't get up and turn on the air then getting up for a stranger at the door is another matter entirely.

"One second," he calls, shutting his laptop with a sigh and taking a moment to untangle himself from all his cords. He rubs his eyes, face pink from cleaning, and wanders over, not bothering to ask questions. Ten likely wouldn't answer them anyway.

The first thing he thinks when he opens the door is that Johnny should have sent him a picture. Johnny really should have sent him a picture. It's very short, styled out of his face, and he looks very polished — not something he usually looks, with his long hair and his college student wardrobe. It's good. Taeyong swallows. It looks really good.

Johnny is smiling at him like he knows he looks good, and that's infuriating.

"Hello," Taeyong says, more confused than ever, because Johnny doesn't really come over to the dorms. There's no reason to, when Johnny has an entire house and Taeyong has a bunkbed.

Johnny is still smiling — nervously, but still smiling — and he still looks really good, in his blue sweater and his jeans and his new haircut, even with the bruise on his cheek. Like nothing can really dim the light inside.

There are flowers in his hands, roses and something white that Taeyong doesn't know the name of. He stares at them.

"Hello," Johnny says, a delayed response, like he's waiting for Taeyong to say something.

Of course, Taeyong looks like trash and kind of feels like trash and here's Johnny, put together and beautiful and holding flowers. Taeyong readjusts the collar of his sweater and pats down the mess of his hair. Maybe he needs a haircut, too. Would that help? He isn't sure.

So he asks, "are those for me?"

"Oh." Johnny clicks his tongue, looking down at the bouquet in his hands. "Yeah." Doesn't hand it over. "I was going to do something like, more exciting? But Ten told me that would freak you out."

"Probably," Taeyong admits, shy. Maybe he wouldn't have, but Johnny seems to enjoy grand gestures, and maybe Taeyong is ready for that, maybe he isn't. "But I like the flowers."

It's odd, because Johnny seems electrified, full of energy, and yet stuck where he stands. His hands jerk to give Taeyong the flowers. "I'm nervous," he says, sheepish, when the bouquet misses Taeyong's hands by a hair, but he grins when Taeyong laughs at him. "I'm sorry."

Taeyong pets the tissue paper, straightening out the edges. "Don't apologize."

"No, I..." Johnny bites his lips, and when he sighs his entire body slumps. "I should."

"For the flowers?" Taeyong asks, bubbly. His sock feet slips against the floor — he can't quite stand still.

"No, the flowers are for later." Johnny looks Taeyong up and down, face soft. "You look nice. Can I come in?"

"I look nice?" It's not true, but Taeyong smiles anyway. "The stain on my shirt really complements my eyes." He steps aside. "What are you apologizing for?"

Carefully, Johnny sits down on the couch. His legs splay out. He looks a bit like a child. His hands scratch at the newly short hairs at his neck. He looks at Taeyong again, who's standing against the railing of his bunk, flowers cradled in his arms. Johnny has always had a friendly face, even before Taeyong knew him, and that's the same now, but he's searching for something. Taeyong waits and hopes that he finds it.

"I'm sorry for not talking to you," Johnny says eventually, slowly, like he's thinking about what he's saying. Taeyong has always liked that about the way Johnny talks, instead of Taeyong's rapid-fire mumbles, words tripping over shoelaces. "I mean, not that I didn't talk to you, but like, about the things that matter."

Taeyong looks at Johnny closely. "The things we talk about matter," he says eventually. "I just...." He picks at one of the petals, careful not to tear it from the stalk. "I wish you felt comfortable with me."

"I do!" Johnny protests, hand reaching out, splayed in denial. "I feel...I feel really comfortable."

"Johnny." Taeyong shakes his head. "Sicheng knows what's going on with you and I don't." He licks his lips. "Not that...you've been so patient with me, I would never force you or anything. But I'd like to....be in that kind of place — with you."

It's not the kind of conversation Taeyong had expected them to have, when Johnny showed up at his door with flowers in his hands, looking like that.

It's still one they need to have. Johnny knows that, probably. He's always seen things so much more clearly than Taeyong, without the haze of anxiety in his way.

"I want that, too." Johnny's voice is nearly a whisper. "I don't know why...I mean, no, I know why." He laughs. "It's stupid. There are a lot of things. You just have a lot of your own shit, and I didn't want to pile on anything else."

"It's not like my problems are the only problems in the universe," Taeyong points out.

"I know that." Johnny's outstretched hand stretches further, palm up, and Taeyong takes it without hesitating. "I mean, my brain knows that. My mouth is stupid."

Taeyong grins. "I like your mouth." He presses one knee into the couch.

"Don't distract me," Johnny scolds. "I'm trying to do better."

With a huff, Taeyong falls to the side, slumping down onto the couch cushions. "I think you're the best." Plain.

Johnny thinks, several ticks of the clock. "I'm glad," he says truthfully. "But I'm wrong for thinking you wouldn't want to hear about my problems, even just like, as a friend. And I'm wrong for pushing it aside when you asked me about it. And I'm wrong for pretending it wasn't there so you wouldn't worry about it."

Taeyong puts a hand on his knee, gentle. "You're still the best." Still plain. Still the truth.

He waits.

"So, I know Sicheng told you I got a job," Johnny says after a moment, his hand going to cover Taeyong's. It's warm, almost sweaty. "It was honestly such a huge opportunity; the company is enormous and there is all this room for growth and my professor has a personal contact with the management and he sent in my resumé...it was all super ideal for maybe...four months?"

Taeyong frowns. "Okay."

"They're transphobic," Johnny says flatly, almost devoid of emotion, and it's a bit jarring. Taeyong blinks rapidly, confused. "I only found out a few weeks ago. There was this whole statement thing...internal drama. I might never have known." He squeezes Taeyong's hand.

"That's awful," Taeyong says, because it is. His heart hurts. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, for a while," Johnny admits, like it hurts. Like a knife in his side. "God, I — I already had all the paperwork done and the living situation set up and they gave me my orientation information — it just...damn." He shakes his head. "I kept going back and forth, like I had this entire security blanket set up and I hadn't even looked for other jobs. I'd lose all this money on the down-payments. It's close by, it has good benefits, I'd worked _so fucking hard_ to get it, you know?"

"Johnny," Taeyong pleads. His heart races, if only slightly, and his mouth hangs open. "You can't work there. You can't seriously consider working there."

"I did." Johnny rubs his eyes. His head hangs with the weight of it. "I'm not proud of it." He smiles humorlessly. "Maybe that's another reason I didn't want to tell you."

Taeyong shakes his head, speechless. The idea of working in an environment like that is too heavy, and even if you keep your mouth shut the knowledge of it all...Taeyong doesn't think he could bear it. He can't imagine Johnny bearing it.

"But—" Johnny grins, weak. "It's dealt with. I called and told them I wouldn't be coming. They didn't even ask why."

"Oh, Johnny." Taeyong rolls closer, tucking his feet beneath himself and pressing into Johnny's shoulder. "I'm sorry. When did you call?" He wishes Johnny hadn't had to do that alone. He hopes maybe Jaehyun was there with him, or something.

Johnny makes a face. "Yesterday."

Taeyong blinks. "What?" He frowns. "Johnny, how long have you been dealing with this? And it only ended yesterday." It's more shock he feels, than anything. He winces. "Not to...attack you or anything. I'm just..."

"I'd been planning on doing it for a while, I just had to get up the nerve." Johnny smiles, tight. "I knew deep down I couldn't have done it. Not when the whole thing fucked me up so much." The smile eases at the corners, and he tips his head to the side so it rests on Taeyong's shoulder. "I liked hanging out with you; it was like I didn't have to worry about other things. I could focus on anything else, on you, or...so I never brought it up. And then never bringing it up became avoiding it, and then avoiding it became me not being open with you."

"You could have told me that," Taeyong says quietly. He's hurt, maybe, because Johnny can explain himself all he wants but in Taeyong's mind it still seems like a lack of trust; Johnny not trusting Taeyong with his problems, or not trusting Taeyong with himself. "I wish you would have."

"I'm telling you now, with a clear conscience." Johnny looks up at him, somber. "I finally did it so that I could move forward, you know? This look on your face, I'd rather avoid it."

"What look?" Taeyong scoffs. "My disappointment?"

"Anything but that." Johnny is light again, hand over his chest. "It hurts too much."

"Is that what the haircut was for?" Taeyong asks, running his hand up Johnny's neck and through his hair. He pretends like he doesn't notice Johnny shiver, just admires the way it feels beneath his hands. Johnny seems a lot smaller, tucked up against his side. "Like when girls cut all their hair off after a breakup."

"No." Johnny laughs. "I got the haircut so I could do a video interview so I'm not homeless after graduation, but I guess it was like, a similar thing." He bites his lip again, smiling curling. "Do you like it?"

"Did I not say it?" Taeyong rolls his eyes at himself. "I like it. You look very classy."

Johnny flips non-existent hair over his shoulder. "I always look classy." He buries his face in Taeyong's shoulder. "I'll miss you playing with it, though."

"I can still play with your hair." It sounds like a good deal, honestly. Johnny doesn't do much to it. The gel makes his fingers stick, but Johnny sighs contentedly as Taeyong works out a knot here and there. "I know what I'm about."

"Do you?" Johnny hums, moving to up, and Taeyong lets him, despite missing the warmth.

Taeyong takes a moment. "No." He blushes. "But sometimes, maybe, I do." He's about Johnny. He's so about Johnny.

Carefully, Taeyong takes Johnny's hand in his. The splits in his knuckles are just scabs now, almost gone, but he kisses them one by one. "I still think you're the best."

It's a small gesture, a simple moment, but there's a tension in Johnny that pours out of him, relief bubbling to the surface, and maybe Johnny isn't as sure of himself as Taeyong thinks he is. It's not a big deal, if he isn't, when he's the way he is.

Taeyong kisses Johnny's forehead, hand on the back of his neck, and appreciates the even footing.

For a moment, he lets it sit. It's nice just being here with him, drinking in the gentleness he radiates. It's like the angry Johnny from the weekend doesn't exist, but Taeyong knows that he's in there. It doesn't scare him. It shades in Johnny's colors.

He paints a beautiful picture. Taeyong looks forward to it when it's complete.

"So," he says, when Johnny's eyes flicker open. "That's what the apology is for."

"Yes."

Taeyong raises an eyebrow, sly. "What about the flowers?"

Johnny laughs. "Ah, yes, the most important part, now that the fun stuff is out of the way."

"The most important thing is your haircut," Taeyong tells him, cheeky. He places the bouquet gently in his lap. "I can't believe you refused to send me a picture."

"I was literally getting my life together," Johnny groans, nudging Taeyong's shoulder. "Leave me alone."

"Fine." Taeyong tilts his head. "Are you going to ask me, or not?" The room is warm. His cheeks are warm. He worries with the collar of his sweater.

"I _will_ ," Johnny says, over dramatic, challenging. He cups Taeyong's face with both hands. "Lee Taeyong."

Taeyong hums. "Yes, sir?"

Johnny's visage cracks, just for a moment. His eyes twinkle. "Don't say that to me, I'm trying to be serious." He sighs, thumbs sliding across Taeyong's cheeks. "I'm really trying."

"You don't have to try so hard," Taeyong teases, leaning into the touch. "Just let it come easy."

"You're one to talk." Johnny's face is open, smiling, beautiful. "I can tell you're nervous."

It's true, Taeyong is nervous. His heart is racing. A part of him is worried he's going to bolt out the door the moment Johnny's opens his mouth; he's only ever attributed these feelings with fear and discomfort, and they're blossoming into something else but to a degree they still feel that way. He's not sure he'll really know until the words are out in the open air.

But he thinks he'll stay. He wants to stay.

"I'm nervous," Taeyong admits slowly. He holds onto Johnny's wrist. "But I can handle it."

All of the smiles Johnny has given him, this one is the brightest. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."

Taeyong rolls his eyes, but he preens. "Get on with it."

Johnny kisses his nose, and his cheeks, and his forehead. "Lee Taeyong," he says, dramatic, full of something, "will you be my boyfriend?"

A breath held. Taeyong waits for the panic. And waits. And smiles.

"Yeah," he says, leaning his forehead on Johnny's. "I think I'd like that."

__

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS CLICHÉ everything is fine


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's me, Rome, and right now it's almost 3am and I just got home from work but also: Johnyong? In love.

There was a time when the idea of being close to anybody would make Taeyong's nerves bubble up in his stomach, keep him up at night, scratch at his skin, but this is nice. He's lying on his couch with Johnny in his arms and it's nice.

The flowers are sitting up in an empty cup full of water; Taeyong makes a mental note to buy a vase at the store, but he's warm and comfortable and he doesn't want to move, maybe ever. Johnny is heavy on his chest, very close to smothering, and Taeyong wouldn't make him move for anything.

Taeyong traces his fingertips over Johnny's cheekbones and tries to pin down his smile, hold it back from beaming, but it still shines through, even if all Johnny is doing is playing Candy Crush.

"I had to have Ten let me into the building," Johnny says absently, once he's beaten the level. He's embarrassingly far and also not embarrassed about it. "I have to do his laundry next week."

"He probably would have let you in, regardless," Taeyong says, laughing. "He's all talk." And his laundry stinks — Taeyong knows, because on the days when it's all over the floor he wants to cover the room in caution tape.

"I figured." Johnny cranes his neck to look up at Taeyong, a novelty. "He likes you a lot." Grins. "And you like me a lot. So I'm sure I could have haggled."

Taeyong slaps Johnny on the stomach, but he can't disagree. "Shut up." His eyes drift to the flowers on his desk. His mind drifts a little further, slightly to the left, and he frowns. "You know what?"

Johnny hums absently.

"I don't think I even told my mom about you."

Johnny sits up too quickly and elbows Taeyong in the ribs. "What?"

"Control your limbs, please," Taeyong chastises, wincing, but he laughs. "Shoot...I'm trying to think if I told her about you or not." It's kind of embarrassing, that he might have forgotten, considering how much Johnny has taken up of his life recently. He remembers mentioning Sehun to her, albeit without a name, and he's definitely talked a little about Ilhoon, but he doesn't think he's mentioned seriously talking to anyone.

Maybe it's because Taeyong tells his mom all of his problems, and Johnny is the opposite of that.

"How can she approve of me if she doesn't know I exist?" Johnny demands, something sparking in his eyes.

"She knows you exist," Taeyong says, and he's certain of it. "Mark knows you exist and he can't shut up ever, so my mom definitely knows." Of course, Mark never met Johnny, and mostly knows him from Donghyuck and whatever he can pry out of Taeyong on a good day.

"That's not the _same_ ," Johnny whines, hovering a little closer, and Taeyong rolls his eyes. "I can't believe you didn't tell your mom about me."

Taeyong laughs. "Sorry." He leans forward and kisses Johnny's nose, lightning quick, and pretends like his boldness is natural despite the flush on his cheeks. "Did you tell your mom about me?" he teases.

Johnny's response is unexpectedly sober, soft, sweet. "Of course."

Honestly, Taeyong should have expected that, because Johnny is a romantic and far more sentimental thanTaeyong allows himself to be, but something about it is still surprising. Learning that Taeyong exists to Johnny outside of their time together when Taeyong barely feels present in his own life.

"Oh." Taeyong hides his face in his shoulder. "That's...nice."

"Hey." Johnny thinks it's cute. Taeyong knows because Johnny has this same smile on his face when he looks at his plushies and random dogs they find on the street, but it's still embarrassing. "What are you hiding for? I only told her good things."

"What good things?" Taeyong asks, depreciating. "Where are they?"

"Mmmm." Johnny considers it. "Everywhere."

"Gross." Taeyong covers his face in his hands, even though he knows Johnny will only tease him more. "Don't compliment me." His heart feels full to bursting, jumping out of his rib cage. "I'll die."

Johnny just laughs again, pulling one of Taeyong's hands away and kissing the heel of his palm. It makes something flutter. "You just need to hear good things more often. Build up immunity."

Taeyong looks at Johnny, really looks, at the planes of his face and the quirk of his smile and the stars in his eyes. "I'll tell my mom about you," he mutters, laughing a bit at himself. "I don't know why I haven't. Maybe I was just..."

"You know what?" Johnny tilts his head. "Let's go tell her."

"Uh..." Taeyong blinks. "What?"

"It's Friday, right? Let's go." Johnny scrunches his nose, and then says, mock serious — "This is very important Mom Business."

"You want to meet my mom?" Taeyong asks, hesitant.

"Yeah." Johnny shrugs. "It's a little far for you to meet my parents; I'm not sure we're at flying-cross-country level official yet but," he grins, "maybe later. But we're definitely at the two-hour-drive level."

Taeyong snorts. "Really?" They've been official for about an hour.

"I'm gonna be honest," Johnny says, "I would have met your mom like a month ago."

It pulls Taeyong back — _I'm ready to commit literally always_ — and something in him bursts. "I would like it if you met my mom," he admits. So much. He likes Johnny so much.

This door was so heavy to open. It's taken so long for Taeyong to get here, where he can reveal himself to someone and not want to run away, and he doesn't know if Johnny is the kind of permanent you only find once, but he's a rock and he's not going anywhere.

"Alright." Johnny stands up from the couch, more mindful now of Taeyong underneath him, and he holds out his hand to pull Taeyong to his feet. "That's it, then."

 

* * *

 

Taeyong doesn't want the flowers to die, so he leaves a note for Ten to refill the water cup, and then they haul into Johnny's car and go.

There's little thought to it. Taeyong has enough stuff at home that not bringing a bag isn't a big deal, but Johnny doesn't think about the fact that he doesn't have a toothbrush until they're halfway through his Queen album and it's too far to go back.

"That's what Walmart is for," he says with finality, before skipping to Killer Queen.

It's dark by the time they pull into the driveway, and Taeyong realizes he probably should have called his mom and let her know they were coming. He shuts the car door too hard and stands in front of home, intimidated by the prospect of it for the first time.

Johnny slips his hand in Taeyong's — Taeyong hadn't even heard him get out of the car.

"Hi, Mom," Taeyong says, when his mother opens the door, wild-eyed. "This is Johnny."

She’s confused, for good reason, because Taeyong usually tells her when he plans on coming by, and he always tells her the few times he brings company, and it's late, and there's a strange boy, and for all intents and purposes she _should_ be confused. There's a pencil behind her ear and her glasses are low on her nose.

She looks at Johnny from head to toe.

"Hello, ma'am," Johnny says, bowing slightly. He still looks nice, with his button up and his hair cut, but the cut on his lip and the bruise on his cheek might mar the otherwise-perfect image. He holds out his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Johnny." She shakes his hand, and despite everything saying she should be confused, she looks knowing. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Mom." Taeyong's throat squeezes closed. "Johnny's my boyfriend." He almost tags on an addendum — _as of three hours ago_ — but it's not important, in the grand scheme of things.

It's quiet for a long, terrifying moment, and then it's over and his mom is smiling. "Welcome home, boys."

 

* * *

 

It's odd, really, how easily Johnny folds himself into the space, but that's always been one of his talents. For someone so large he adjusts so easily, but it's still weird for Taeyong to look at his kitchen table and see Johnny sitting there.

Johnny, his boyfriend.

"Are you okay, Yongie?" his mom asks, cool hand brushing across Taeyong's forehead. "You look a bit red."

"The tea is just a bit hot," he says, clearing his throat. Johnny pretends to blow on Taeyong's cup from across the table. Boyfriend. Wow.

Honestly, Taeyong has never been in this kind of situation before. Sure, he's brought friends home before — Ten, for example, a couple of weeks ago — but there's something more charged about having Johnny sitting across from his mother in his best button-down, preparing himself for an interrogation.

It doesn't come. At least, not to Johnny.

"Why haven't you told me about him?" his mother demands, pouring Johnny another cup of coffee. It's easily Johnny's fifth cup today, if Taeyong had to guess, but his mother made an entire pot the moment he let it slip he preferred it to tea. "My own son..." She clicks her tongue.

"Mom," Taeyong whines. "I just forgot—"

"I'm appalled," she says definitively. "You have time to complain to me about the terrible cafeteria food and not let me know about your very handsome friend?"

"She raised you better," Johnny says solemnly.

Taeyong makes a face at him before turning to his mother. "Don't call him very handsome; you just made his day."

"False." Johnny stirs some sugar into his cup. He smiles, too sincere, it makes Taeyong's heart burst. "You agreed to be my boyfriend today."

"This was a mistake," Taeyong mumbles, but he's smiling down at the table.

It's odd, how easily Johnny folds himself into this space, but Taeyong feels like he could push every obstacle aside just to make room, if he had to. If Johnny wanted him to.

His mom clearly wants to say a million things, ask a million things, and Taeyong can almost physically see her holding herself back. He's grateful really, and so full of nerves that maybe he's being overly sensitive to the both of them. He always wants his mother to approve of his friends, but this is different, heavier. Terrifying, in some ways, and simple in others.

Johnny has always been charming — it's no surprise that extends to parents.

"Tell me about yourself," she prompts, sitting back in her chair. Her hair is tied up, smoothed back, but it's clear that Taeyong caught her at an unexpected moment. Her makeup is gone and her sweatshirt is the one she wears for cleaning, but she seems at ease despite the circumstances. "Since my own son didn't."

"I'm in music production," Johnny tells her. "Right now I work with the university's recording studio, but I'm graduating in May."

"Johnny does a radio show on campus with our friend," Taeyong adds, trying not to sound too proud. "They're really good."

"You don't have the face for radio," his mom chirps.

"Thank you," Johnny replies.

Taeyong rolls his eyes, but he's happy. The fluttering, full kind of happy.

"Any plans for after graduation?" she asks. Her sock feet tap idly on the kitchen tiles. She sees the way Johnny hesitates, they all do, and her eyes soften. "I know that can be a stressful question."

"It's okay." Johnny bites his lip thoughtfully, gathering himself. "I had something lined up with a music distributor, but recently found it was a bad fit for me." He swallows, sighs. "Finding a job once was scary enough, but trying to find another one is..."

Taeyong runs his foot up the side of Johnny's leg, a casual comfort. "You're really talented, Johnny," he says. "And hard-working. You'll be okay."

Taeyong mother looks at him, then at Johnny. "College kids want to have everything figured out right away. The truth is that you have a lot of life left to live."

"I'd like to live it easily," Johnny says with a laugh, the heaviness of the conversation evaporating into the air. "I know that probably won't happen, but it's frustrating."

"You seem like a good boy," she says, and Taeyong laughs at the way Johnny preens. "You have good friends?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then you'll be okay." She purses her lips. Opens her mouth to say something else before swallowing it down, and Taeyong thinks that he really is his mother's son. "Is it time for baby pictures?"

" _No_ ," Taeyong says with great emphasis, but Johnny is already clapping his hands and following her dutifully into the living room. "I was sitting here quietly, minding my _own business_ —"

"You're my son," she throws over her shoulder, and if Taeyong looks he knows she'll already be pulling out old albums. "That means you're _my_ business."

"Please show me," Johnny says desperately. He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, mug in hand. "I'll do anything."

Taeyong whines. "This isn't fair." But he's already getting up and pattering to sit with them, tea now the perfect temperature, and it's comfortable even if he's ready to be embarrassed. "Johnny's baby pictures are far away. He has the advantage."

"I'll have my mom send me some," Johnny says easily. "I was beautiful."

"You're so dumb," Taeyong coos.

Johnny's grin is beautiful and shameless. "Some people are into that."

It's simple. Something clicks into place, there on Taeyong's living room floor; that final puzzle piece.

"Yeah." Taeyong laughs. "Some people are."

 

* * *

 

After baby pictures it's dinner time, and after dinner time Taeyong's mother starts thinking beyond her happiness that her son is here — the logistics. She goes upstairs and starts counting the bath towels, as though they haven't collected enough, and shows Johnny every room, as though he needs to know where the laundry is.

"How are you guys sleeping?" she asks Taeyong quietly, arms laden with linens.

"Uh." Taeyong blinks. "Well?"

"No! I mean is he going to use the guest room, or?"

Taeyong pauses. He hadn't thought that far, but he supposes he assumed that they would share a room; it's what they've always done, when Taeyong has brought people over. When he says as much, the line of her mouth dips down.

"But you guys are dating," she says, quiet, but not so quietly that Johnny can't hear where he's pretending to be impressed by the guest bathroom decor.

"We've shared a bed before," Taeyong tells her without thinking, and the way her eyebrows rise — Taeyong's face turns beat red. "Not like that. Just like, normal bed sharing. The PG kind."

"I'm not saying you can't," his mother says, "I'm just saying not to do it in your childhood bed. Please. For my sake."

Johnny can definitely hear her. " _Mom_." Taeyong might actually prefer death.

He pushes her out of the bathroom as quickly as possible, saying goodnight and giving her a kiss on the cheek with unprecedented panic, but the embarrassment has already set and he's a goner. "I shouldn't have brought you here," he says darkly, once his mother is back down the hallway and he and Johnny are alone. His stomach flips. "A disaster. She's a disaster."

"I think she's really great," Johnny says. He's sitting on Taeyong's bed, and maybe his mom is on to something — seeing Johnny here does something different to him than seeing Ten here, or Mina, or any of his high school friends. He looks a little out of place, because this is high school Taeyong's room and Johnny is college Taeyong's boyfriend. Boyfriend. Wow.

Taeyong falls into Johnny's side with a happy grin. "She is great but also a disaster."

"Runs in the family?"

"I hate you."

Johnny's laugh is deep and warm, and his arms wrapping around Taeyong's shoulders are even warmer. "You were right, though. She does give off best mom energy."

"I still need to bake you that bread," Taeyong says through a yawn. Johnny hums in agreement, even if he probably didn't understand a word Taeyong said. "God, I'm tired. I hate driving."

"You didn't even drive!" But Johnny lays down on the bed and takes Taeyong with him. It's not like they're going to sleep right now — it's too early, and they're still in their day clothes, and Taeyong hasn't even brushed his teeth — but Taeyong lets Johnny hold him close like a rag doll and breathes in deeply. Fills his chest to the brim and never wants to let it go. "Let's nap."

"It's ten o' clock," Taeyong mumbles into Johnny's t-shirt. There are strong arms around his waist and it's strange, because Taeyong a year ago would not have enjoyed this. Taeyong would never have even thought he would enjoy this, because things like this require being held close.

Maybe it's just the thought of it, maybe Taeyong has spent his entire life blowing it out of proportion. Maybe it really is as easy as just letting yourself be held, and the anxiety that trickled in was something dark and dangerous and cruel, unusually cruel. But Taeyong has held and been held before — the girl he'd tried to date in high school, Sehun, not so long ago — and they do feel big. They feel like a shift in one direction or the other, like they matter, even if not in the way maybe Taeyong wanted them to.

This matters, but it's something small.

This is Johnny's thumbs rubbing against the small of his back and this is pressing kisses into Johnny's shoulder and this is the blissful relief of not thinking too much.

"I feel like you've helped me," Taeyong admits to the empty air, and Johnny's breath is soft on his cheek. "I feel like you've helped me so much and I haven't given you anything."

"You give me this," Johnny argues, even if _this_ is open and endless and Taeyong wants specifics but knows he won't get them. Maybe for Johnny, _this_ is also something small that matters. "And I don't think I've done as much as you think I have."

"Slander." Taeyong narrows his eyes. "You've really given me a lot."

"I gave you room," Johnny admits. "What you did with it was your own choice."

And maybe Taeyong has lived his entire life trying to take up as little space as possible, even in his own head, wrestling his feelings inside a box and sitting on the lid to keep it shut. Maybe this is what happens with he's standing on his own two feet and letting everything spill over.

Maybes used to frighten him, but maybe not anymore, if the results are so sweet.

It's nice, if not a little odd, sharing Taeyong's bed and breathing each other in and whispering secrets like school girls but heavier, firmer, and Taeyong draws small circles in the palm of Johnny's hand like a reminder _I'm here_.

"I'm sorry if my mom made it awkward," Taeyong mumbles, once they've actually started preparing for bed. He watched Johnny take his shirt off and pull on a t-shirt and poked at the mole on his back before heading out to brush his teeth. Now his face is a bit red from a wash and his body is tired, down to his bones, but when he slips under the covers Johnny is already there reading a book from Taeyong's shelf.

He looks at Taeyong over the rim of his glasses, lips parted slightly, and Taeyong kind of wants to kiss him. "What do you mean?"

"About like, the funny business." Taeyong flushes.

"Oh." Johnny laughs, deep from his belly. "I don't care. We're adults, I can handle some euphemism."

"But it's _awkward_ ," Taeyong whines, flopping down against his pillow. His bed here is large enough for two, tried and true, but their legs tangle anyway, like the space isn't there. "I don't want my mom thinking about us having sex. That's weird."

Johnny grunts affirmatively. "That, I can understand." He sets his book down on the shelf beside the bed and leans down, kissing Taeyong's cheek. "We'll just have to not have sex. Done."

Taeyong rolls his eyes. "Like I'd have sex in my childhood bedroom even without the threat of my mother." He thinks about that first night with Sehun, and how different it was; too hot and too close and a bit cold, despite it all. He doesn't think about that much, lets it slide over him. He'll think about it in the morning. He'll let it bother him in the morning.

This is too sweet to sour.

 

* * *

 

**Jaehyun**

Do you think Johnny knows about like  
My thing

yong you'll have to be more specific lol

Like the ace thing

he's the one that told you to talk to me in the first place right?

Yeah  
But what does he think about it?

do you even know what you think about it?

I think so  
Probably

tell him then

Scary no thank you

idk what he thinks about your sexuality but we both know what he thinks about you lmao  
just ask him  
i think you'll be happy with the answers you get

 

* * *

 

"You guys shouldn't stay cooped up all weekend," Taeyong's mother tsks when they trickle down the hallway in the morning. Johnny has already showered, his hair wet against his forehead and wearing one of Taeyong's old shirts — slightly too small but not unflattering, if the funny feeling in Taeyong's throat is anything to go by. "Why don't you take Johnny out to the river?"

God, Taeyong hasn't gone to the river in forever. It's been years, actually, since he spends his summers working and avoiding most of the people he knew in high school. "We don't have stuff for the river." It's a Saturday, and all the nearby areas are going to be littered with high schoolers or drunkards. "Johnny doesn't even have another pair of pants."

"This is true," Johnny admits, laughing. He tugs at the hem of Taeyong's t-shirt. He looks big today, the cotton pulled a little too tight over his shoulders, and Taeyong is struck by how handsome he is. "I'm a little wrinkled this morning."

Taeyong has always known it in a distant kind of way, that Johnny is handsome, but there's something so sweet about him in the morning. His hair is a mess and there are red marks on either side of his nose from his glasses. Taeyong looks at his through sleepy eyes, barely awake but present in this moment, and he reaches up to brush Johnny's hair behind his ear.

His mother watches him closely, maybe a little surprised under the fondness, but she's merciful. "I'm sure you can borrow something from Mark's brother. He's about Johnny's size."

Taeyong laughs, spreading jam on his toast. "You already called Auntie, didn't you?"

She sniffs, putting more butter in her frying pan, shameless. "They have the kayaks."

"I can't believe your mom set us up on a date," Johnny teases later, putting beach towels in the back of his car with the cooler. "Was not expecting her to be so forward."

Truthfully, Taeyong expected him bringing a boy home to be a bigger deal than is was, but he already knows his mother will probably call him when he gets back to campus and demand details. She's nosy, and will always be nosy, because she will always be Taeyong's mother. At least she has the propriety to not freak Johnny out, although the more Taeyong gets to know him the less he thinks that's possible.

"I think she's been dreaming about this day since I was like fifteen," Taeyong admits, pulling his cap a little lower on his head. the sun is hot today, and it's a nice day for the river, even if it wasn't his decision. A part of him wants to spend the entire day on their front porch eating ice cream and sharing kisses, but they can do that on the shore, he guesses, if Mark covers his eyes.

Mark and Donghyuck, apparently, because when they pull up to his cousin's house Taeyong sees the kayaks hooked onto the back of his aunt's jeep and Donghyuck sitting on the front step smearing sunscreen on Mark's nose.

Donghyuck breaks into a smile when he sees them — "Johnny!" he exclaims, like a brat, ignoring Taeyong completely — and Mark looks at his cousin a little sheepish. "He wanted to come," he says, and Taeyong can't fault him for not being able to say no to his best friend.

"Are you guys back together?" Taeyong asks quietly while Donghyuck is distracted trying to climb Johnny like a tree. "Or at least friends?"

Mark licks his lips. "I think right now we're just something in between."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I'm not sure we could do long distance like, as boyfriends." Mark has always doubted himself too much — his abilities, his feelings, his determination — but Taeyong doesn't. He sees the way his cousin looks at that boy and thinks they'd be perfectly fine. "We're just deciding whether we want to try."

The sunscreen is still white on his nose, and Taeyong smooths it out until it melts into Mark's skin. "That's okay," he says, wiping his fingers on his swimming trunks. "If you're trying, I think you'll be alright."

"Come on," Donghyuck chirps, pulling Johnny into Mark's house. "Let's find you a suit."

Mark's older brother has long since moved out of the house, but Taeyong's aunt is a hoarder and there are drawers full of his old clothes. Donghyuck picks out the ugliest of them all, a lurid neon with flamingos on it, and Johnny sports them triumphantly. He opts to keep on Taeyong's t-shirt, which Taeyong isn't mad about, and they all clamber into the jeep and head out.

"I don't want to drive," Taeyong whines, but his aunt doesn't trust Mark with her car and doesn't know Johnny at all, which means Johnny is in charge of music and distracting Taeyong from the monotony of the forty five minute drive to the shore.

It's a short drive, easy, because Taeyong knows it well, and Donghyuck talks their ears off about school and his plans for the summer and the prank the seniors are pulling. It was Donghyuck's idea, hoisted off onto Mark, and he whines about saving it for his own senior year, because there's no way they'll be able to sneak a cow into the school two years in a row.

Johnny has never been kayaking, because he's from Chicago, and Mark takes great pains to explain it to him despite being horrible at it. Taeyong and Donghyuck work on getting the cooler strapped in and all the towels secured while Mark rambles on and Johnny tries to look like he still needs the help even after Mark's repeated himself thrice.

"He's lucky he's cute," Donghyuck stage whispers, pulling his kayak into the water and Mark's annoyed _what_ is met with laughter and something softer.

It really is a nice day, and Johnny needs very little help after Mark's initial instruction. They all pull off their shirts fairly quickly, once the heat soaks in through the cotton, and Johnny looks at Taeyong with something close to awe.

"Who knew?" Johnny says, passing Taeyong down the river. "This is everything I didn't know I wanted."

Taeyong swats at Johnny with his paddle.

The trees are green and water is just the right level, and Taeyong points out his favorite things to Johnny, who drinks everything in like a child. It's cute, really, the way Johnny's eyes light up as they make their way through.

"There's a rope swing around here somewhere," Mark says, and he always remembers because it's his favorite part, and Johnny's returned enthusiasm is endearing.

"They're annoying," Donghyuck breezes as he passes them by.

Taeyong just laughs.

It's a good way to spend his morning, he thinks, in the company of people who soothe rather than sting.

The kayaks are really just a way to get to the Drop, as the Lee's affectionately call it. It's a small cliff, fairly secluded, and after about an hour Donghyuck directs them all towards the edge of the shore and pulls out lunch from the cooler. "It's too hot," he whines, once everyone is settled in the shore. Johnny and Taeyong are sitting on a towel and digging through the fruit Taeyong's mother packed. "It's hot and I'm dying."

"Stop clinging to me, then!" Mark whines in response, trying to pry Donghyuck's arms from around his shoulders, but his ears are pink and there's no denying Donghyuck when he wants something.

"They've known each other for a while?" Johnny asks, popping a strawberry into his mouth and watching Donghyuck pick Mark up and carry him into the river. "How have you handled this for that long?"

"I don't know Donghyuck well," Taeyong answers, as Mark's screams are cut off by being thrown into the water.

"That explains it, then." Johnny snorts. "Mark's not nearly so loud by himself."

"You'd be surprised." Taeyong snorts. Mark is loud and annoying in his own right, and Taeyong can say that because they're related and his love in unconditional. But, honestly, Taeyong thinks Donghyuck might be the quieter of the two, slightly shy and a bit more cunning, hiding himself behind bravado. Mark is genuine, bone-deep, and he brings that out in his friends. "They suit each other."

They both watch the younger boys make their way over the drop, the mud wall a ruddy red in the dry summer sun until they splash onto the landing. Mark slips, mud splattered up his side. Donghyuck laughs at him, loud enough it echoes through the trees. Sweet.

"Mark's graduating soon," Johnny notes.

Taeyong hums. "We're thinking he's gonna go to California, but I don't think he's told his mom yet..but she knows he accepted because he can’t keep a secret. She’s devastated."

"That's so far." Johnny frowns. "Did he and Donghyuck fix things or—"

"I asked that, too." Taeyong laughs and fishes a piece of pineapple out of the Tupperware with careful fingers. "I think they should try long-distance, but they haven't asked my opinion." In the distance, Mark shrieks as Donghyuck pushes him off the cliff into the water. Taeyong pops the fruit into his mouth and sees Johnny's eyes there. He grins. "They'll figure it out, I think."

And they will. It's a safe assumption to make, that they'll all be happy. It's hard to say otherwise when it's such a good day.

 

* * *

 

Mark finds the rope swing and is determined to lose his life in the pursuit of the perfect dismount, and Johnny pulls Taeyong into the water with a grin. His skin is hot under the sun and cool in the water, their legs tangling every once in a while. Johnny is a better swimmer, and more energetic, and Taeyong can't stop him from sneaking kisses on Taeyong's bare shoulders. Not that he would want to.

Taeyong steals a few of his own, when he thinks the others aren't looking, although the whistling implies he misses his mark more than once. "You're so good," he says into Johnny's jawline one moment, before splashing him and making his way up to the room. He's happy. There's something magical about that.

He stands at the landing, grinning down at Johnny, seeing the hearts in his eyes, and his chest wants to explode with fireworks.

Taeyong thinks he might more than like Johnny. He thinks he's ready to admit that to himself.

It's no more scary than taking that step over the edge, hitting the water and knowing he'll never drown.

The sun has her own plans, namely beating down without mercy, and Mark's shoulders are looking pretty red by the time Donghyuck decides it's time to head back. "I'm tired," he declares, but he's already opening the sunblock and demanding Mark stand still. "Let's head back."

"Am I burnt?" Taeyong asks, and Johnny gives him a once over. His eyes linger a little, and Taeyong rolls his eyes, hoping his blush with be mistaken for sun. His gaze is heavy; not unwelcome, but unfamiliar, and it does unfamiliar things that Taeyong doesn't feel like sorting.

"Your nose, a little," Johnny says, placing a kiss there. "It's cute."

"Tell me that when it peels."

Johnny kisses his pout, too, and Donghyuck's wolf-whistling just turns the kiss into a smile.

The problem with river days is that once you decide to leave it takes a long time to make your way back. The jeep is right where they left it, and they're all tired from the water and sun, and Taeyong lets the others wrestle with the kayaks while he goes off and pulls the car up. There's sand everywhere in the hatch, so he doesn't feel bad about adding to it, but there's no saving the car seats from the water, seeing as their towels are damp.

"Let's get McDonald's." It's Donghyuck, chirping up from the backseat.

"What's with you and McDonald's?" Taeyong asks. "We got that last time."

It's a reminder of a darker time, the last time they saw each other, but Donghyuck doesn't dim. He shines all the brighter. "You offered last time. Now it's just Pavlovian."

"Don't drool on me," Mark warns, but it's his own stomach that growls, and Taeyong sighs, pulling out onto the road looking for the nearest exit.

"Children," Johnny says. "Burger King is better."

McDonald's isn't _good,_ " Donghyuck challenges. "It's what McDonald's symbolizes."

"Also that's incorrect," Taeyong adds. "Burger King is terrible."

"What does McDonald's symbolize?"

"Childhood," Mark offers.

Taeyong laughs. "Capitalism."

"We don't support capitalism," Johnny replies, grinning in the front seat. His hands hover over his phone, but it's so nice seeing him interact so naturally with people that are important, if only just to Taeyong.

"Everyone supports capitalism," Donghyuck fires back, snotty, "we all just admit that it's shit."

"So," Mark says, clearing his throat. "McDonald's?"

"Oh, wait." Donghyuck points to the next exit sign. "The one off 68 has a PlayPlace."

Taeyong doesn't ask why Donghyuck has that committed to memory, nor does he point out that all off them far exceed both the height and age limits of a PlayPlace.

Johnny's water bottle is mostly empty and mostly warm in the console between them, but he finishes it off anyway, and Taeyong casually hands over his own half-finished water, and Johnny drinks that down too, wiping his mouth as they pull into the parking lot. "Here or to-go?"

"There's a PlayPlace," Donghyuck says firmly, like it's an answer, and they all exit the car and stand in the hot sun one more time before taking over the McDonald's.

"Why do I feel like this is what having children is like?" Johnny asks mildly.

"Because they're children," Taeyong says, grinning. He links their arms together. "You can be the stay-at-home mom."

"Is this you proposing?" Johnny's eyes glint mischievously. "It's a little early, don't you think? I just met the parents."

The sound Taeyong makes is inhuman, but aside from an odd look from a small family in the parking lot the others seem unfazed.

"I'm kidding," Johnny promises, holding open the door. Their skin is stiff with river water and they smell like the sun. The air conditioning makes Taeyong shiver, but so does Johnny's hand on the small of his back when they head towards the counter. "I know you don't want to get married."

"Well—" Taeyong aborts the thought. He had mentioned it once, that marriage wasn't important to him, but it seems to heavy to say he doesn't think he'd mind it if it was with Johnny. Johnny is right in that regard; it's too early. "Stop teasing me."

"Me? I'd never." Johnny sticks out his tongue. "I'm buying you dinner, like a good boyfriend."

It's more like a snack, seeing as Taeyong gorged himself on fruit and sandwiches not two hours earlier, but the fun has been exhausting and he finds himself ordering another meal. "I'm not going to eat dinner tonight," he whines, when Johnny pays for the both of them, holding his large cup tightly in both hands.

"You'll be hungry again," Johnny tells him. "You're always hungry."

"True," Mark says, coming out of the bathroom. "He's a bottomless pit."

Donghyuck appears out of nowhere and hands his receipt to Taeyong. "Come on." He tugs on Mark's hand, fingers linked together, and the two of them race towards the playground.

"Guess we're waiting for the food, then," Taeyong says, wry, as he watches Mark climb on the outside of the jungle gym like the overgrown baby he is. He glances at the cashier, to see if she'll mention the fact that he should definitely not be doing that, but she seems disinterested in everything other than the stain on the counter she scratches with her fingernail.

There's too much food between the four of them, and especially too much for just Johnny and Taeyong, but when Taeyong holds the bag up to the glass windows, Donghyuck just motions for them to wait and continues harassing Mark on the slide. With a huff, they pile the food up on the plastic table and settle in.

"Their food's going to get cold but whatever," he groans, throwing his head back, sprawled out in the chair. "I'll just fucking eat it all then."

Johnny's eyes on him are so soft; soft enough that Taeyong's throat goes a little dry, and for a long moment it seems impossible that someone would like him as much as Johnny does and it wouldn't be terrifying.

It's a little terrifying, actually, underneath the euphoria, because Taeyong thinks if he messes something up it will be a long way to fall.

He clears his throat.

"You did get a little burnt," Johnny says after a moment, mixing ketchup and mayonnaise on his tray with a stray fry and popping it in his mouth. "Your ears."

"That's..." Taeyong makes a face. "That's just you."

Johnny smiles, chin propped up on his hand. "Can't believe I'm more powerful than the sun."

Taeyong can. Taeyong definitely can. He throws a fry at Johnny anyway.

It's nice here, nicer than the Taeyong of last year could have ever hoped for. Maybe nicer than that Taeyong was even capable of, although he's starting to doubt that's the case at all. Things aren't always easy, because this feeling is meant to be easy and rarely is, but Taeyong thinks that fate smiled at him a little when he ran into Johnny that day at the party.

Johnny makes things simple and Taeyong makes things complicated, and even if Taeyong's feelings are hard-won he thinks Johnny deserves every butterfly in Taeyong's stomach. He counts them, one by one, and thinks he'll never set them free.

"What are you thinking about?" Johnny asks.

Taeyong covers the red on his cheeks. "Butterflies."

There are other things, Taeyong thinks, that he should be thinking about, because in the daylight being someone's boyfriend has a lot of responsibilities. "This is a date, right?"

"Does it count if we brought our children along?" Johnny asks, like it's so easy, digging down in the bag for his chicken nuggets.

"We're dating, so this is a date," Taeyong decides.

"Fair." Johnny grins. "I would rather our first date with a little more...something. Not that McDonald's isn't romantic."

Taeyong swallows. "I don't need romance."

"I think you deserve it." Plain. Beautiful, like the roses on Taeyong's desk, too far away.

Somehow, Taeyong catches another butterfly and adds it to his growing collection.

"I need to talk to you about something," Taeyong says, once Mark and Donghyuck's food is properly cold and the ice in Taeyong's tea has melted. "But it's embarrassing and I don't want to."

"I've already seen your middle school yearbook pictures," Johnny points out, stuffing a chicken nugget in his mouth. It's not attractive. Taeyong's heart flutters anyway. That, more than anything, makes him thinks _this is it._ "Any damage has already been done."

This stupid boy.

"You know I'm not..." Taeyong starts, but his voice fades into nothing, and he shakes the ice is his cup like the sound will make up for his silence. "One second."

Johnny's eyes are very pointed, and he's been stirring his sauce with that fry for so long that it's soggy and inedible, the only really sign of nerves. The rest of him is relaxed. "Take your time."

Taeyong taps his thumb on the dirty table. "You know I'm ace, right?"

It's the first time he's said it out loud. It's a strange label, too big for his mouth.

Sweet relief, that's what he sees, trickling over Johnny. "Yeah, I know." He smiles, small. "Like Jaehyun, right?"

"Not...exactly." Taeyong watches Mark and Donghyuck through the window and decides he's going to start eating their fries. "Jaehyun I think is like, a lot more adverse to...to sex than I am. In general."

They've talked about it a few times, since that first conversation, and no matter how much Jaehyun tries to play it there's no hiding the effect that first experience had on him. It wasn't good. Taeyong didn't have that kind of reaction, and he still doesn't, when he thinks about sex, or having it with someone.

With Johnny.

"But even if I don't hate it as much, I'm still not sure I want to have it," he says. "At least...not..."

"We don't have to talk about this," Johnny says gently, his foot nudging Taeyong's shin underneath the table. "I know it's not comfortable for you."

"We need to talk about it, though, right?" Taeyong asks. "Like, talking is something couples are supposed to do and sex is something couples are supposed to have."

The old woman sitting across the aisle gives him the side eye, and Taeyong wants to melt into his seat. Johnny frowning doesn't make it any better. He stares at the paper adds on their tray and traces the fake smile with his fingertips.

"Is this about what your mom said?" Johnny asks. "Because like, don't get me wrong, she's awesome, but it wasn't cool of her to just assume."

"I mean, why wouldn't she?" Taeyong asks. "We're a couple of boys in their twenties. Of course she's going to assume we're having sex."

"Taeyong—" Johnny cuts himself off, making a face. He takes a deep breath, eyes counting the tiles on the dirty ceiling as he gathers his thoughts. "If you don't want to have sex, that feeling is valid. Just as valid as wanting to have sex."

It's weird, having this conversation plainly in broad daylight, but Taeyong isn't sure he'll have the courage with the lights off.

"What if I never want to have sex, Johnny?" he asks, not quite small but sure. "What would you do?"

Honestly, Taeyong isn't sure that's the way he works, but he doesn't know otherwise, and he knows that sex is something far removed from himself, from how he sees himself and the people around him. He doesn't feel drawn to it, despite being drawn to Johnny, and he knows that he isn't broken. The people around him are enough to convince him otherwise — he's okay, he'll be okay, because he chooses to be — but it doesn't change the fact that he's different.

Everyone is different, maybe, and everyone wants different things, but it feels like attaching himself to someone is a bit cruel.

Johnny's eyes are sad. "Then we wouldn't have sex, Taeyong. Period."

"That's not fair to you," Taeyong says. "You should get what you want, too, right?"

"I want you, however much you want to give me."

"If I wanted to have sex with you, you'd want that, right?"

"Well, yeah — Taeyong, you're gorgeous, and important, and that'd be...but..." Johnny's hands clutch the edge of the table. "Taeyong, you don't want to have sex with me. That's not something to compromise on."

"I'm willing to compromise," Taeyong says.

It's not surprising that Johnny doesn't believe him, and maybe he shouldn't, if the tightness in Taeyong's chest is anything to go by.

Johnny's jaw clenches. "No."

"Okay." Taeyong huffs, hands up. He knows he won't get anywhere with that line of thought, and a part of him is relieved. His hands are jittery, wanting something to do and coming up short, aborted motion after aborted motion. "Then...what do you want to do?"

"I want to not have sex with you," Johnny says, laughing a little, incredulous. "If you don't want it, I don't want it."

Taeyong snorts. "We both know that's not true."

"Listen to what I'm telling you instead of what you think you'll hear," Johnny says, and it's not soft. It's firm, because Johnny really wants him to listen. "Not having sex is not a dealbreaker. It never has been. I don't think that's fair of you to assume."

Taeyong knows that, knows that Johnny has known this since the beginning, since Taeyong cracked his heart open like an egg and fried it on the pavement because Johnny was willing to listen. He's always been willing to listen.

"I just think you deserve to be happy," Taeyong says, trying to be plain.

Johnny bites his lip, and his eyes trace over every inch of Taeyong's face, looking for something. Taeyong thinks he finds it, but he isn't sure what he was looking for. "What makes you think I need that to be happy?"

They've never talked about it. Honestly, Taeyong doesn't know anything about Johnny when it comes to sex, other than the off-handed mention that he's had it.

"I know like...for Ten, sex is an important thing." Taeyong chooses his words carefully, picking about his bones and finding the ugly thing that hides underneath. It's a weird monster to look in the eye. He's slowly been taking its power away, day by day, and now it's small and frightened, and maybe one day Taeyong will get rid of it for good. Maybe setting it out on the table will finally release Taeyong completely. "For him, I think it would be a dealbreaker."

"I'm not sure about that," Johnny says, jaw tight. "But you're not dating Ten. You're dating me. I'm saying it's not a dealbreaker." Frowns. "I'm not sure what I did to make you think that it would be."

"Truthfully? Nothing." Taeyong sighs. "I just know it would be for a lot of people in a normal relationship."

Johnny clicks his tongue. "This is a normal relationship."

Taeyong groans. "You know what I mean."

"You're normal!" Johnny throws a wadded up napkin at him. "I'm aggressively telling you that you're normal!"

"Stop." Taeyong laughs. "I'm just saying that it seems like it should be a big deal."

In the PlayPlace, Mark and Donghyuck are playing with a fake piano, and Donghyuck's head is on Mark's shoulder, and things look simple. Is that what people see when they look at Taeyong and Johnny, something easy and simple and uncomplicated? Is that what they are? Taeyong thinks they could be.

Donghyuck smiles at Mark, and it's a smile for himself only, knowing that Mark won't see it, allowing himself to be happy.

Taeyong wants to be more like Donghyuck.

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. When the gears stop turning, he looks Taeyong dead in the eye. "How many hours do you think a 'normal' couple would have sex a week?"

"I don't know." Taeyong blinks. He's never thought about it. "Twelve?"

Johnny's laugh is startled. "Twelve?"

" _I don't know!_ "

"Okay, okay." He holds his hands up. "Let's say it's twelve." Johnny shakes his head, but his smile is genuine. "You're telling me, that those twelve hours are worth more than the _hundred other hours_ I would be spending with you?" He huffs. "Like, I should give up those hours because I'm not getting that twelve."

It does sound a bit silly, a bit trivial, but the voice in Taeyong's head are telling him that it's not. "I'm just saying you could—" Changes his mind, with a sharp breath, because he knows that Johnny won't like he's about to say.

"What?" Johnny says, knowingly, because he knows Taeyong well enough now to smell bullshit on his lips. Sometimes his brain is kind to him and sometimes it's cruel, and Taeyong knows that this is one instance of cruelty. Johnny knows that, too. "I could, what?"

Taeyong grimaces. "I don't want to say it."

Johnny raises an eyebrow. "Sure you do."

He doesn’t. He really doesn’t. Taeyong purses his lips. "I'm just saying you could get that hundred hours _and_ sex from someone else."

Taeyong pries the ugly thing out and sets it in front of them both and it doesn't go anywhere, but it seems so much smaller out in the open.

"But they wouldn't be you," Johnny says, firm, gentle, simple. "They could never be you."

It's an ugly monster, feral, out of place under the fluorescent lights. Frightened.

"This isn't me compromising for you," Johnny says. "This is me wanting to be with you, point blank. No conditions, no expectations."

Taeyong's chest is so tight, and he's not crying because he refuses, but his eyes are watering, and he wishes he'd saved this conversation for another day, but Mark and Donghyuck are hovering not far from their table, whispering to each other, and Taeyong's time is up.

"I can't believe you're making me cry in this McDonald's." Taeyong stares at the lights.

"We can talk more about this later," and Johnny's feet kick Taeyong lightly, like a reminder that he can feel. "Let's get the kids fed, huh?"

Their food is forgotten and remembered again, and Mark sends Taeyong alarmed looks as he eats his luke-warm Big Mac, but Donghyuck is loud and obnoxious as always, and pulls the three of them into something resembling frivolity. Taeyong gets up to get a refill on sweet tea and when he comes back Johnny is still there, still steady, still smiling.

Taeyong will listen, because Johnny asked him to. He'll hear, not because it's the answer he wants but because he has to trust that Johnny is being honest with him. It's a high cliff, a scary step, but Taeyong swings off the edge and knows he won't drown.

It's a normal day, all things considered, nothing special but the company, and they pile back into the car and drive home with happy sighs.

Johnny holds his hand as Taeyong fumbles with his house keys. Johnny tucks himself into bed beside Taeyong and threads their fingers together. Johnny presses kisses to Taeyong's sunburnt shoulders and Taeyong lets him.

Taeyong really thinks he'd let Johnny do anything, if he asked.

"How long do you think it takes?" he asks, long after the sun has set, their constant companion faded and the lights off. "For people to fall in love?"

Johnny is asleep, but Taeyong doesn't need an answer.

He likes the answer he's found.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell doors, wide open is coming to a close. She's a huge baby, a long fic monster, and I love her. I'm planning on another chapter and an epilogue - not nearly enough! I'm sad. But I won't get sappy until like the fat lady sings I guess. 
> 
> This chapter was not very interesting, and also the most Midwestern thing I've ever written. Whatever.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it is I, Rome, and I am SAD.

It's sad to leave home. There's nothing at university for him except awkward situations and finals, and things feel a lot safer and more solid on the stairs of his childhood home. His mother kisses him on the forehead. "Drive safe, okay?"

"Johnny is driving," Taeyong says, grinning, and he kisses her cheek while she ruffles his hair.

"He's a good boy," she says, which is kind of embarrassing since Johnny is right there and definitely can hear her, but it hasn't stopped her before and he doubts it ever will. "I'm glad he's the first one you've brought home."

"Does he get your approval?" Taeyong asks, feeling Johnny buzzing with excitement.

"We'll see," she says, shooting Johnny a look, but there's something fond she can't quite reign in, even for the joke. "But it's very likely, given time."

"I think he might stay around a while," Taeyong admits, and it's not a secret but it feels like one. Taeyong feels like he's been screaming it off the rooftops for days, weeks, maybe months — _stay, stay, please stay._ But it's hard to ask out loud. Johnny heard him anyway. He's thankful.

"I like your mom," Johnny says later, once they're on the highway and Johnny is halfway through his gas station coffee. "She reminds me a lot of you."

Taeyong laughs, carefully folding the left over napkins in Johnny's dash so they're all flat and facing the same way. "She raised me, so that makes sense."

Johnny hums along to the trashy top 40 on the radio. "You have her smile, and the same laugh." He grins. "And the same nose. It's really cute."

Taeyong watches Johnny sing along, word for word with the radio, never missing a beat. "Now I have to meet your mom." He hasn't forgotten Johnny saying he was beautiful, and Taeyong can believe it, because Johnny _is_ beautiful in a way that bleeds through skin and paper and steel. Like he swallowed the sun. "I want to see embarrassing pictures."

"My mother would literally love to show you them," Johnny says, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. "She says I'm the love of her life but I think her real love is telling everyone embarrassing things about me."

"I think that's just like, moms in general." Taeyong wipes crumbs off of Johnny's console and tucks the smoothed down napkins back in the dash. His shoes are off. The sun shines in hot through the window and Taeyong lets it hit him; the sun, the moment, everything. "They want what's best for us and they're proud when it happens."

"That's just the human condition, right?" Johnny changes the channel, winces, and changes it back again. They're in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by white noise and Ariana Grande. "The people that love you want you to be good."

Taeyong hums, looking out the window. Cars pass, blurs of black and white. "I want you to be good."

When he looks over, Johnny is pink, smiling, happy — good.

 

* * *

 

A part of Taeyong wishes he had stayed at his mom's house, because final preparation has been kicking his ass and quite frankly he's tired of taking punches.

"You don't have to study anymore," Ten tells him, late in the evening, around the time Taeyong starts seeing double. "You're going to be fine."

"But what if I'm not fine?" Taeyong asks, half-deranged.

"Well shit," Ten says, flat. "Guess you'd better keep studying then."

Still, Ten wrestles the textbook away about half an hour later and they watch Netflix and make popcorn and whisper in each others ear. It's nice, simple, a good reminder of the way things were at the beginning of the semester. The clock isn't turned back but Taeyong wouldn't want it to. He's gained too much, for all he's lost.

And the people around him, too, have gained and lost in seemingly equal measure, but maybe eventually the scales will lean in their favor. Maybe what's heavy now lightens later.

Taeyong thinks his fortune is already tipping, and he's barely started throwing out the dead weight. It's feels like he could fly, even anchored. Strange.

"I think I'm in love with Johnny," he whispers to Ten, long after their movie is over. Ten doesn't reply, just breathes, and Taeyong tucks him into bed and resolves to say the words out loud more often until they feel familiar.

He says them in the morning, in the mirror, after Ten's long gone to the studios, and hearing them doesn't make him want to run away. It's an answer, one he already knew.

_I'm in love with Johnny_ he texts Mark.

_Yes,_ Mark texts back.

And then, fifteen minutes later — _Wait what???_

Taeyong sighs into dead week, and for once it's something peaceful.

 

* * *

 

They aren't all good days, because good feelings don't always overcome a bad brain, and tests have always struck the worst kind of Taeyong's nerves. Ten and Johnny combined are usually enough to talk him off of every ledge, and they're passionate about their jobs. Ten slips into Taeyong's bed to hold him on nights when he's not at Johnny's, and Johnny tells him over and over that he's studied enough to turn the lights off and close the day.

It's hard, but it's better.

Taeyong just hates finals season.

"Why don't you go to the studios?" Ten suggests in the morning, already up and ready as Taeyong wrestles with his bedhead. "When was the last time you let loose?"

Taeyong groans. "I've been clenched my whole life." But Ten is right, so he changes into something comfortable and packs a water bottle and heads out the door.

The worst part of finals is that the weather is nice. The universe taunts you with summer and leaves you with grades to worry about, but Taeyong takes a moment to revel in the sunshine. There are students lying out on the grass in the quad and someone is throwing a frisbee at all the trees. It's not a bad memory. Taeyong holds onto it.

It's weird, too, to think about all of the people he sees every day graduating. Sehun is leaving, Seulgi is set to finish her classes in the summer, Johnny is still—

Well, Taeyong thinks he'll have Johnny whether he's on campus or not, but it strikes a nerve to think he won't be as close as the house a few blocks over. He has no doubts that Johnny will stay, in whatever manner he deems fit, but things are changing, and Taeyong feels the ache of it.

Some things change for the better, despite the feeling of loss.

It really has been a long time since Taeyong went to the studios. All of the dance majors were running frantic to finish their end of year choreographies, and any time Taeyong chanced a visit he was either entirely in the way or pulled into some sort of project. The last time he'd spent nearly an hour with Jungwoo sticking Post-Its to all of Taeyong's major muscle groups. Taeyong is happy to help, but the sheer panic and the manhandling he could do without.

But it's fairly quiet now. Fitting, maybe, since it's dead week and all the students are recovering from their final showcase. Ten has barely done more than sleep and eat after the stress of preparing for exams on top of hell week rehearsals. Taeyong doesn't regret stepping out of the showcase this semester.

There are small groups of dancers; some sprawled out on the floor, others moving in lazy circles with headphones hanging down. Half-empty water bottles line the mirror, jackets hang off the barre. It's quiet.

Some things are loud, like the fans buzzing or the music in Taeyong's headphones or the boys tangled up in each other on the Marley floor.

Or maybe that's quiet, too. They barely notice Taeyong lurking in the doorway, not focused on each other but not focused on anything else either. They're leaning up against the mirror by the stereo, watching a video on a phone, a tangle of limbs. Yes, Taeyong thinks, it's quiet. Not quite subtle, not quite small.

Jaehyun's arm is wrapped around Sicheng's waist and their legs touch and it's not subtle or small and Taeyong is so happy because of the happiness.

If anyone deserves to look so happy, he thinks it's Jaehyun.

Taeyong finds another studio, but his heart already feels a bit lighter and a little more human.

Even during dead week, things are alive.

 

* * *

 

It is kind of amazing, the things that can grow despite the distraction of the everyday. Anxiety, as always, and feelings. Good and bad. Hunger of all sorts; for rest, for success, for something — _anything_ — to break the monotony.

In a way, Taeyong envies his seniors, but there's stress there as well. Johnny has been surprisingly mum on the job matter, but Taeyong suspects that he's lining things up in the shadows of final preparations. It still seems like he's keeping secrets, but if Johnny feels like he has to handle this by himself then the most Taeyong can do is remind him that he doesn't have to.

Taeyong is just trying to survive the study sessions and the reviews, which means stopping at the convenience store, which means more sweets than he can carry, which means he needs backup.

"This place gives me good feelings," Johnny says while Taeyong pays for his snacks. He's already tried to pay, but Taeyong is stubborn and wound tight like a rubber band, so Johnny chooses the bare minimum and carries the bags.

"Good feelings?" Taeyong laughs. "Are you just high on the gasoline?" He tugs Johnny's sleeve down into place and gently takes the bag from the cashier, candies rattling cheerfully amidst the rustling of plastic. "I mean, I have good feelings because I'm about to eat like a king—thank you!" He waves goodbye to the man at the counter and hands the last bag to Johnny.

"Both are valid." Johnny grins, and he looks lighter than he has any business being, but Taeyong supposes that's what happens when you have the rest of your life ahead of you. "But no. We have good memories here, right?"

Taeyong knows exactly what he means, and his chest blooms. "You mean the candied peaches?"

If Taeyong wastes the rest of his life, wastes his degree, and all he does is make Johnny laugh, he'll be happy. Thousands of dollars in debt for no reason, but happy. Johnny curls his body in towards Taeyong, the grocery bags bumping between them. "Of course."

First kisses and good feelings.

"Maybe we should destroy another display," Taeyong offers, but Johnny just kisses him sweet on the mouth and they walk out into the sun.

Tennis shoes beat on hot pavement and Johnny's hand is hot where it brushes Taeyong's arm. "Hand me a Twizzler."

It's the summer, or almost.

"Are you ready?" Johnny asks.

"For what?"

"Anything."

Taeyong hums. "I think so."

The sky is light blue and his hands are full and his heart is so, so full, ready. He really thinks so.

 

* * *

 

"Hello, bitch," Taeyong says when he gets back to the dorm room. He opens the door with the sole of his shoe and stands triumphantly in the doorway. "I brought you Panera bagels."

It's out of place, maybe, considering the tension in the room is thicker than blood.

"Hello," Kun says delicately.

Ten and Kun are both sitting on the floor, backs pressed against the dresser. Kun's legs are splayed out on the carpet and Ten is curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his knees. Kun's backpack is perched beside him, and the space between the two boys is so small but somehow insurmountable. Their arms touch, but they just look tired.

That's the tension, more than anything. It isn't sensual, or electric, it's just tired.

Taeyong takes a deep breath and holds it, and tries to control his embarrassment long enough to set his groceries down and make a hasty escape. But he brought ice cream, which means he needs to put this away. Unfortunate. Ten looks halfway between crying and laughing. It's a bad sign, or a good one. Or.

Taeyong keeps his head down.

It's Kun, unsurprisingly, that saves them all. "I should go, I think." He gets up with a groan, knees popping, and Taeyong relates to the heavy set of his shoulders as he picks up his back and straightens. "Sorry to intrude." He bows slightly, and Ten's hand reaches out for a moment to touch his leg, butterfly light. Kun doesn't even feel it.

"No, I'm—" Taeyong swallows. "Sorry. Bagel?"

Ten laughs into his hands.

"Sure," Kun says, with a small smile, and Taeyong is only shocked for a moment before he digs through the paper bag and hands one over. Kun raises it like a toast. "Thanks."

He heads out the door.

The sigh that leaves Ten's body is loud, heavy, almost wistful. "See you around."

"Sure," Kun says again, another small smile, tight around the corners but somehow still genuine. "Thank you. Goodbye."

He's gone.

"What was that?" Taeyong hisses, raw with panic. The grocery bags are too loud when he drops them on the desk, but his ice cream is more important than the interrogation, so he squints at Ten while he opens the freezer and chucks it inside. "Why was he here?"

"Because I texted him," Ten says, frank. His knees are still drawn in close, but he leans his head back and lets his legs fall, his body splayed out and limp. "I can't tell whether it was a good choice."

"It could have been." Taeyong systemically takes his things out of the bags and organizes them; fridge, freezer, drawer. "You guys talked it out?"

"Mm." Ten nods.

Taeyong looks at him carefully. Ten's eyes are focused on the floor, through it, into the underground. "Did you get the answer you wanted?"

Ten licks his lips. "I don't know," he admits. "I'm not sure I know what answer I wanted in the first place."

Doubting limits you. That's the problem with things. This is the time to search aimlessly, but it's a hard pill to swallow when things slip through your fingers.

"You don't have to know what you want right now," Taeyong says, focused on his food, because Ten hates it when people see him cry.

"Maybe not." Ten takes a deep breath. "Kun knows what he wants, though. I kind of hate him for that." He laughs.

Taeyong bites the inside of his cheek, thoughtful, tucking his produce into the fridge. "Are you going to see him again?"

The silence is telling, but Ten still speaks. "No," he says eventually. His hands run over his face. "I don't think so."

Taeyong sits down in the space Kun left, but the difference is in the tension, and Taeyong has no qualms with curling into Ten like a puzzle piece. "That's okay."

"Yeah." Ten leans his head against Taeyong's hair. "It is." A small smile. It matches Kun's. Tight and genuine.

Time passes, and it isn't easy, but it's getting there.

Things can grow.

 

* * *

 

Jaehyun slams his hands down on Taeyong's library table. "Child," he says, as Taeyong's iced coffee rattles at the impact. "Go outside. Please. For me."

"I refuse." Taeyong's microeconomics professor is an actual devil and he has a marketing project due in 37 hours. "If I leave the library I will die." This is his third coffee today. He barely drinks coffee. He feels his skeleton vibrating.

"Don't make me call Johnny," Jaehyun threatens, eyes narrowing, and Taeyong takes a sulky sip of his drink. "What would he say if he knew you were driving yourself into the mud like this?"

"Johnny is busy today," Taeyong replies, matter-of-fact, and tries not to pout. If Johnny hadn't been busy, Taeyong would probably be studying on Johnny's bed right at this very moment, but he's been banished to the library with the rest of the student body that don't have boyfriends with their own houses. "And I know he never answers you."

Jaehyun curses under his breath. "If I put your name first then he'll definitely answer it."

"Jaehyun," Taeyong whines. "I need to study. Please. Exams start in three days. I'm fucked."

"You're smart, Taeyong, and you know all of this." Jaehyun picks up one of the many notebooks scattered across the table and grimaces at the writing on the page. Taeyong's notes are always taken very carefully, but the amount of red pen from the revisions is atrocious. Taeyong isn't offended. "You've got As in most of your classes."

"That's an overstatement." Taeyong is good at managing his time, but he won't pretend that it's been the easiest semester. His distraction hasn't always done him favors, and it never bothered him. He'd make the same decisions, he thinks, for the most part, but he needs to get at least an adequate score on the cumulative exams in order to maintain his GPA. "Just give me like half an hour."

Jaehyun huffs, arms crossed, but there's not much he can say in the face of a compromise. "I'm going to go take an online quiz and if you're still here by the time I get back, I'm dragging you out by the hair."

Taeyong bites on his straw. "You would never."

Jaehyun also knows he would never. "I'll have Sicheng do it."

Sicheng definitely would.

"I'll be gone by then," Taeyong acquiesces. He'll finish up this book report and then pack up his things. His brain is going fuzzy anyway.

Taeyong is saving his document when his phone buzzes.

He thinks it's Jaehyun with a pointed reminder to give himself a break. He's already composing a response when he picks it up, but it isn't Jaehyun. It's someone he hasn't heard from for a couple of weeks.

_i told him not to :/_

It's Mina.

Taeyong is slow to process, slower to reply. He takes a moment, packs up his notebooks and his computer and lets the text message sit.

**Mina ♥**

Who? Ilhoon? What did he do?

he's at the library waiting for you  
i really tried i'm really sorry

 

Taeyong swallows. He zips up his backpack and drinks his coffee and decides the shaking of his hands is caffeine rather than fear. He's just tired.

Thank you.

There are worse things than facing demons, if that's what Ilhoon is. Just another monster hiding somewhere too deep, waiting to be dredged up.

Taeyong sends Jaehyun a cheeky message — _All done~ ;)_ — and leaves the room with his shoulders set.

"This is familiar," Taeyong says, when he leaves the library and sees Ilhoon sitting on the brick wall outside, hands clasped in his lap. It's not the first time Ilhoon figures an ambush is the best way to apologize, and Taeyong isn't happy this time either, but at least he's prepared. "What did I say before?"

Ilhoon looks up with wide wide eyes and scrambles to his feet. He towers over Taeyong, always has, and sometimes it's scary but right now it just seems like a test. It's one he'll pass. Taeyong has already bent too much. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Didn't think I'd reply to a text message?" Taeyong tries not to sound bitter, but he can't even hate him, and he hates that. "You don't get to take that decision away from me."

The line of Ilhoon's mouth is so tense. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"You haven't learned a single thing," Taeyong says, small. He holds himself around the middle, his own support, however weak it makes him look.

Ilhoon frowns, dark. "You don't get to decide that for me, either."

Actions are so loud, but Taeyong doesn't have the energy to point out the shadows that Ilhoon pulls behind him. He's too tired. There's nothing about this conversation that Taeyong wants — he isn't even sure this is something he needs. It seems a bit selfish, for Ilhoon to force his hand and for Taeyong to run away from it. Both of them are selfish.

"Okay," Taeyong says, squinting up at the sun. It's a pretty day. "What do you want?"

Ilhoon deflates. He's a big guy, sturdy, but he empties everything out into the open air and then he's just a shell. If Taeyong taps him, he'll crack like porcelain. "I just wanted to talk to you." An echo.

Taeyong keeps hands at his side, tapping rhythms instead of veneers. "Then talk."

"Maybe we can go somewhere a little quieter?" Ilhoon asks, his hands tight on the straps of his bag, nervous.

Honestly it's a guileless request. This is Taeyong's friend Ilhoon, but they're all the same, and Taeyong has lost faith in every iteration. If they went somewhere private, it would probably be fine, but things can change at the drop of a hat, and Taeyong doesn't have the strength to bear the brunt of something so ruined.

"Let's sit at the fountain," Taeyong says.

It's not what Ilhoon wants, but perhaps they're both smart enough now to know that isn't important.

The fountain is not far from the library, central and crawling with clusters of students pretending to study. The music building looks rather grand behind, and Taeyong's always liked the fountain despite not knowing what it's supposed to be. Art, maybe, but right now it's just a safe haven.

"Maybe one of our rooms would be better?" Ilhoon starts, eyeing the students meandering about. A girl waves at him and he waves back before she returns to her conversation.

Taeyong sits down, tense, and prepares to hold his tongue. "This is better."

This conversation isn't for him, anyway.

"I just didn't want to leave things that way," Ilhoon says after a while. He doesn't sit, too full of nervous energy, but that's Ilhoon. His nerves fill him up until he's a caged animal, and Taeyong's anxieties are lead on his ankles, holding him down. "After everything, it felt wrong."

Taeyong looks up at him and sighs. "Okay."

"And I thought you might like the closure."

It's reassuring, in some ways, because Ilhoon can see that Taeyong is ending the chapter, snipping threads, but Ilhoon can't see that it's already done. "I don't need the closure."

"Maybe not right now, but..." Ilhoon clears his throat. "Isn't that something important to like...putting things behind you?"

Taeyong won't say that he's already put things behind him, because the weight is heavy and only time can lift it, but he doesn't need someone else to close the book for him. He's already committed himself to doing so.

Instead of responding, he waits.

Ilhoon scuffs his shoes on the ground. "After...after everything happened, I had a lot of thinking to do."

"Yes." Taeyong doesn't have a good poker face, but there's nothing for him to show except for this awful, empty feeling. It seems like Ilhoon always has a lot of thinking to do, these days. "And what did you find?"

"You..." Ilhoon blinks, big and crumbling. It's sickening to see, this aftermath. "You didn't deserve that."

Taeyong shakes. Smoothes out the wrinkles in his jeans. "No," he agrees.

"I swear I'm trying to get better," Ilhoon says, almost a whisper, chin quivering. "I just don't know how to be anything other than this."

_I've always been this way,_ he'd said, in that bathroom, smelling like tequila and something deadly. But he wasn't. "You were something else," Taeyong reminds. "When we met, you weren't this."

Ilhoon sets his jaw. "Neither were you."

Taeyong is so exhausted. "No, I wasn't" But he truly thinks he's changed for the better. "Am I still cold, Ilhoon?" he asks carefully. "Cruel? Do you still want to hurt me?"

"I never wanted to hurt you," Ilhoon insists, peering at Taeyong.

It's a lie. Taeyong doesn't call him out on it. He doesn't need to. Ilhoon knows himself better than he pretends to. Taeyong can see it in his eyes.

"I just wanted a chance."

"You wanted to be Sehun," Taeyong argues, shaking his head. His heart is racing. It's tiring. The anxiety will hit later — maybe immediately, maybe when he closes his eyes to sleep. "My awakening, or whatever. You were never going to be."

"Don't say that to me," Ilhoon demands, a nerve to strike. "You don't know that. You've changed so much."

Taeyong turns his face up to the sun. "Maybe." He'll allow that.

A moment passes, and when Taeyong opens his eyes Ilhoon's eyes are something new, somewhere between a monster and a friend, and Taeyong is human enough to face him. "You took the chance when you had it," he says, and Ilhoon swallows. "Was it worth it? That moment? Was it everything you wanted?"

Tap tap. Ilhoon cracks. "I'm sorry."

"That's not what I asked."

If Ilhoon wants to take his closure, then Taeyong is going to show him a mirror and force him to see. Maybe he is cruel.

"It wasn't worth it," Ilhoon says, but he can't look at Taeyong. His head is in his hands. He paces, that wild animal. "I'm so in love with you, TY. You have to know that."

Taeyong wishes he wouldn't call him that. "I did, maybe. Now I'm not sure." But he supposes it was a different kind of love, followed by a rancid kind of doubt. "You can apologize all you want, but I don't need closure."

Ilhoon's hair has grown too long. There's BB cream under his eyes, hiding his haunting, but it's not enough to return Ilhoon to what he was. "Then what do you need?"

"Nothing," Taeyong replies, because it's true. "I'll forgive you if that's what you need. But I don't need anything from you."

Forgiveness. It's not what Taeyong thought would come out of his mouth, but he thinks it's true. There's no repairing bridges burned, but if Taeyong wants to let go of this he isn't going to dig through the ashes for a grudge to hold.

There's relief on Ilhoon's face, in his bearing, and then something rises that looks awfully like hope.

"Don't get excited," Taeyong tells him, a measured cut. "We'll never be friends again." He looks at Ilhoon where he looms, and despite the tension he's never felt so steady. "You know that, don't you?"

"If you forgive me, then there's still hope," Ilhoon says, smiling softly. For a moment Taeyong wants to agree, because there's good in Ilhoon, buried deep. He isn't evil, just lost.

Taeyong sighs. "I have to forgive you for me, right?" he thinks allowed. "For you, I think you need something else." It's not Taeyong's friendship. "You should listen to Mina. She's trying her hardest for you."

Ilhoon doesn't harden the way Taeyong thought he might. He looks at the cracked cobblestones instead, at the small tufts of grass that grow out of the cracks. "Mina doesn't know anything."

Taeyong's heart breaks for her. For the both of them. "I told her to stay away from you."

There's surprise in Ilhoon's eyes when he looks at Taeyong. "Why?"

"Because you're hurting her, too." And Taeyong stands by what he says — warmth hasn't worked. There's extra weight dragging Ilhoon down, and if a cutting voice severs something awful then Taeyong thinks it's worth the final effort. "She thinks you'll change if she helps you, but you and I both know you won't."

Taeyong stands, dusts himself off. The fountain sputters on behind him, never wavering, and the students mill around them. A million conversations happen, and none of them involve this. It's a huge mountain, but it's between the two of them and them only. In the grand scheme of things, isn't it rather small?

Insurmountable, maybe, but Taeyong has time. He'll cut it down if he has to.

"Get better, Ilhoon," he says, adjusting his bag on his bag. "Get better because you know you're wrong. Not because you want me to forgive you."

Taeyong rings the bell, closes the book, blows out the candle.

He leaves.

 

* * *

 

**Mina ♥**

I'm sorry things are this way

me too

Promise me something, hmm?  
Don't let him ruin you

 

* * *

 

Taeyong meets Johnny at the recording studio on Friday night with a cake. "How do you feel?" he asks, lighting up the candle. The atmosphere is somber, but it's a celebration, after all.

"Sad," Johnny admits, snaking his hand around Taeyong's waist. "The end of an era."

It's the final _Night Night_. Taeyong had sat in the room with Joohyun while Johnny and Jaehyun wrapped up a semester of episodes. Listeners sent in letters for Johnny, knowing he's graduating in less than two weeks — Doyoung, Yuta, several that Taeyong doesn't recognize and even a few that Johnny doesn't either. Taeyong sent in something of his own, but the bright smile on Johnny's face when he sees it is worth the embarrassment of Taeyong's feelings being broadcast.

Sehun is also here, after helping Taeyong bake the cake using their kitchen, and Wendy and Joohyun have been hanging around waiting for the cake to be cut. It feels like an ending, but Taeyong doesn't think there are any lingering regrets.

Jaehyun's eyes glitter a bit, but he shakes them away and gives Taeyong a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Be my boyfriend," he says. "Make me cake."

"He's taken," Johnny says, surprisingly firm, but it's hard to be intimidating when there's purple icing on your nose.

Taeyong laughs and cuts Jaehyun another slice.

There's something simple in this, in the feeling of it, and Taeyong is happy to be a part of something that's worth enough people are sad when it's over.

Jaehyun takes the rest of the cake home after Taeyong boxes some up for Ten, and then Taeyong settles into Johnny's passenger seat and they drive home.

There are dishes in the sink still, sticky sweet, but Johnny kisses Taeyong on the neck and Taeyong doesn't have the patience to do them yet. They'll be there in the morning, he thinks, letting Johnny rock him back and forth to a song that doesn't exist. He laughs. There's sugar in the kiss.

Later, when the lights are off, Johnny takes his shirt off and Taeyong doesn't tease him for it. "Do you mind?" Johnny asks, but Taeyong is already motioning for him to crawl into bed.

"It doesn't bother me," Taeyong says, has been waiting to say, having long suspected that Johnny prefers not sleeping in a shirt. "It's just skin."

"Pretty skin," Johnny replies, giving a shimmy, and Taeyong laughs as he reaches across to turn the light off.

He kisses Johnny's shoulder. "You're very pretty." He grins against tan skin. "I'm lucky."

Johnny's smile is hidden as the lights go out.

They've long sing been at home here, in Johnny's bed. Taeyong scrolls through his phone and Johnny sets his glasses on the bedside table and sinks down in the sheets. They find each other. Taeyong settles.

There are a million thoughts, and Johnny will never stop them all, but he soothes the majority and Taeyong can fight off the rest. Taeyong is stronger than Ilhoon, there are people that deserve to be happy, and there is something hopeful in the future. Tonight is a good night, even at the end of an era.

"You want me to talk to you about things, right?"

Johnny asks it out of nowhere, while Taeyong is miles down his Twitter feed, and Taeyong shifts in bed, sitting up on his elbows. "Of course," he says, fighting through a yawn. He blinks away the bright spots in his vision, and when his night vision adjusts he sees that Johnny is surprisingly sober. He brushes the hair off Johnny's forehead. "You can talk to me about anything."

Taeyong loves Johnny's mouth. He talks well, knows his own mind, and more than that it's a pretty line. It's tilted downward now. He wants to kiss it better.

He swallows. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Johnny takes Taeyong's hand, the one that's not holding him upright, and kisses his knuckles. "I've just been thinking."

Taeyong laughs, only mildly nervous. "Always dangerous." Waits.

Johnny takes the moment to gather himself, and Taeyong has always appreciated that about him, that he takes the time to make sure his words are true. "Do you remember like, way back when we were just getting to know each, that first time you stayed over?"

There are a lot of nights that Johnny could be talking about, but Taeyong runs through the possibilities for a long moment. "When I still talking to Sehun, right? The first time we really talked."

"Yeah." Johnny's voice is unusually quiet, a product of the time and moon rising outside their window.

Taeyong waits, and waits, and then — "What about it?"

Johnny's eyes are far away, and the sigh is a bad sign. "I'm only thinking about it because I'm sad about _Night Night_. And other stuff, too, I guess." He blows out hair, pouting. "Thinking too much, in general."

Taeyong hums, and sets his phone down by the pillow. He moves, throwing one leg over Johnny's waist until he's sitting up top of him and Johnny has no choice but to look at him. "Sad thoughts?"

There was a time where Taeyong would feel awkward like this, Johnny shirtless underneath him, lights off, but there's no tension between them. Just something softer, worth more than gold. Johnny's hand is on his thigh and he's comfortable. Warm.

"Not really," Johnny says. "But I'm sad that I'm thinking them."

"Tell me," Taeyong says, gentle.

"You remember what we talked about that night?" Johnny asks. His eyes are glowing, but Taeyong isn't sure how. Maybe from inside.

"We talked about a lot of things," Taeyong answers, because it's true. It was probably the first time Taeyong had talked openly of any of those things, too nervous to mention it to his friends, too afraid to mention it to himself. "Mostly how much of a wreck I am."

Johnny laughs. "You were never a wreck. Just..."

"A wreck?"

"Alright." Johnny lets his head hang back on the pillow, and Taeyong pokes him in the forehead with a gentle finger.

"Tell me."

Johnny cracks his eyes open, grabbing hold of Taeyong's hand. "You remember how you mentioned...forcing it?"

Taeyong blinks. "Uh...no?" He thinks. "Forcing what?"

Johnny threads their fingers together. "This."

And then, Taeyong does remember, the feeling of that thought more than the words themselves. The Taeyong then was desperate for anything, any feeling other that indifference or anxiety. Isn't that why he slept with Sehun in the first place, that first mistake? The pursuit of being human, misguided and destructive.

Taeyong remembers feeling that way.

"Oh, Johnny." Taeyong sits back, shakes his head. "I remember." He looks at Johnny, truly looks, and he doesn't see worry there. Just careful consideration, and perhaps a guarded heart. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"I wouldn't say...worried," Johnny says slowly, although Taeyong can hear the lie.

"You can tell me," Taeyong says, will repeat until it works its way through Johnny's thick skull. "And you can admit that the thought hurts you. That doesn't pressure me."

"Whatever the truth is, I'll accept it," Johnny says, but the rise and fall of his chest sings a different song.

"If that thought hurts you, that's okay," Taeyong says. He places the flat of his palm on Johnny's beating heart. "You can feel things. You don't have to hide them for my sake."

Johnny's fingers are so delicate against the bones of Taeyong's wrist. "I know you," he says. "You'll lie to save my feelings."

"That's not fair," Taeyong snips. "I haven't lied to you."

"Or yourself?"

"I've done that plenty," Taeyong admits, quietly. The admission is thick in his throat, and of all his flaws maybe that's the greatest of them. "But you've never given me any reason to set myself on fire. You know that, don't you?"

Johnny hums, and Taeyong can feel it through his skin. Taeyong can feel everything. "I think so. But I also think that you want to be with someone."

It's a little sour, maybe, but Taeyong can't say Johnny is wrong for thinking so. "I was doing alright on my own for long enough."

"And then Sehun, right?"

"Yeah." With a huff, Taeyong spins patterns overs Johnny's chest. "But, Johnny...I've always been like this." He looks at Johnny, frowning, but so soft, searching. "Capable of love or not, I was always this way. And it's always something I tried to force, over and over. And it never worked."

His voice cracks, and so does Johnny.

Johnny's jaw clenches, and he pulls the heel of Taeyong's hand towards his own cheek, and Taeyong touches because he's allowed to, because he _can_ , and it's one of the greatest gifts he's been given.

"If I could truly force myself to love anyone, I would have done it." With Sehun, or his first kiss, or maybe even Ilhoon, if Taeyong thought that would hold things together. "And maybe you came around and I thought _yeah, this could be it,_ but if I fell in love that's because you let me."

His hands shake. Johnny's breath holds. Taeyong realizes what he's said, eyes wide, but he doesn't bother taking it back.

"If I love you, it's because I'm fully capable of loving you, and you let me." Taeyong smiles, and his eyes blur, and his heart steadies. For once, the butterflies are dancing and his head is steady, because this is a truth he can accept, and will continue to accept. "Isn't that what you said? That you gave me room, and I took it?"

Johnny leans his cheek into Taeyong's touch, eyes closed. His eyelashes are so pretty. He's so pretty. "You love me? Really?"

"Johnny Seo," Taeyong says, a whisper. "I'm so in love with you. I'll give you everything. Don't you know?"

It's Johnny who cries. Just a little, just enough, and Taeyong wipes them away with his thumbs. "You big baby," he says, fond.

"Fuck." Johnny sniffs. "Fuck, sorry."

This is what happens, Taeyong thinks, when you give so much and don't expect anything in return — don't allow yourself to expect anything, because you're good down to your bones. Johnny shakes, allows himself to want something, and Taeyong is happy to give it to him. Will be happy to do that, he thinks, maybe forever.

There's no one like Johnny. Taeyong isn't anything special, but Johnny is one in a million. There's no choice but to hold on.

Taeyong's heart is there for the taking, thrown wide open and spilled out on Johnny's palm.

Johnny takes it, because he wants to, and he deserves to want someone's heart.

"You can have it." Taeyong leans down, presses his forehead against Johnny, even as the other boy covers his face with his hands. "You can have everything, you stupid boy."

"I'm sorry." Johnny laughs, a little watery. "I'm stupid."

"I love you," Taeyong says with a smile. He kisses Johnny's nose. "I'm in love with you. Is that too soon?"

"Mama, I made it." Johnny hides his face in his pillow. "Fuck."

Taeyong tugs teasingly on his ear, and then he flops over on his side of the bed, content.

Johnny pulls him close, buries his face in the back of Taeyong's neck, rubbing his tears on Taeyong's tshirt until Taeyong giggles. "I love you, too." He kisses Taeyong's shoulder, the nape of his neck. "I love you, damn."

"I'll take it." Taeyong smiles. Simple. Easy.

Perfect.

 

* * *

 

"I meant to tell you."

It's early morning. Early enough that Taeyong's eyes are still puffy and he's squinting at the fluorescent lights of Johnny's bathroom. The extra toothbrush is dangling out of Taeyong's mouth. Monday.

The shower just shut off, and Johnny dries off with the towel Taeyong set out for him before getting out, appropriately covered as if Taeyong would care. What's nudity in the morning? Taeyong is half-sleep, no energy to be scandalized.

Taeyong yawns. "What?" He spits in the sink and rinses his mouth. He stares in the mirror and tries to decide whether he wants to do his hair or not, but he has two finals back to back this morning and he just doesn't think it's worth it. He stands in the bathroom, drowning in one of Johnny's shirts, and decides he has better things to do, like falling asleep standing up.

Johnny pulls on jeans and sets the towel over his hair. Water drips down his shoulders. Taeyong hands him his contact case. "I...you know how I applied for all those positions a few weeks ago?"

It wakes Taeyong up, just enough to be less of a gremlin. "You got a job?"

Johnny smiles so big Taeyong wants to fly. "I got a job."

" _Johnny._ " Taeyong throws his arms around Johnny's neck, knocking the towel to the floor. "Oh my God, I knew you could. Knew you _would._ That's wonderful!" He takes a step back, and he drinks in Johnny's happiness. "I'm so proud of you. You must be so relieved."

"Yeah." Something a little darker passes between them. "But..."

Taeyong tilts his head. "But what?"

"I'm going back home," Johnny admits. "The job, it's back in Chicago."

"Oh."

Johnny is looking for something. Disappointment, maybe, or apprehension, but Taeyong has simple desires, and only ever expected Johnny to stay in the ways that truly matter.

"That's awesome." Taeyong grins. "You'll be close to your family. You love Chicago."

"I'm not going to fucking cry again," Johnny says suddenly, forceful, and it shocks Taeyong into laughing.

"Do you want to?"

Johnny squints at the lights. "Maybe."

"Baby." Taeyong shakes his head and resumes getting ready. "Did you really expect me to get upset?"

"Maybe." Johnny nudges him aside to look in the mirror, pausing for a moment before putting his contact in. "Chicago is...really far."

Taeyong hums in acknowledgment, hooking his chin over Johnny's shoulder. He grins in the mirror, and that's what Johnny sees when his vision returns. "So?" Taeyong grins all the wider. "Were you planning on leaving me behind?"

"Honestly?" Johnny looks at Taeyong, far past fond, almost with awe. No, certainly awed, because he's in love, and Taeyong basks in it. "Never."

In this way, Taeyong thinks they'll both stay, in all the ways that matter.

Taeyong brews tea in Johnny's kitchen and waves goodbye to Sehun, takes a deep breath of fresh air on Johnny's porch and remembers all the times he's stood here and felt like he doesn't deserve it.

He deserves more. He's taking steps forward, slow, measured, towards his own happiness.

"Are you ready to go?" Johnny asks, locking the door behind them. He looks more awake that Taeyong, but there's nothing new there, and he kisses Taeyong's cheek. He smells like coffee and spearmint.

"I think so," Taeyong says, hooking their arms together.

Johnny clicks his coffee cup to the mug in Taeyong's hands. "To finals season."

"To a good day." A toast.

Beep beep, the car unlocks, and Taeyong steps out onto the pavement.

Johnny opens the door.

_This is it,_ Taeyong thinks. _The end of an era._

He's never been so happy to be part of something.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last official chapter of doors, wide open. I'll save my mushy author's note for the epilogue, but just know - it's coming.
> 
> That being said, thank you to Ellie, who held my hand as my beta through this entire fic, and thank you to everyone on Twitter that hyped me up enough that I could finish this thing in good time. She's a monster. Why is she so large??? No one knows.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sobbing mess. Not really sobbing but like. on the inside. Just in ruins. Everyone who follows me on twitter knows. I've been yelling about this fic ending for like a solid three weeks. 
> 
> But here it is, the last hurrah.
> 
> For the sappiness, see the ending notes. Otherwise, please enjoy.

Taeyong hates getting bad news over the phone.

He hates getting bad news in general, but if pressed face-to-face is the best option. Still, he offers a cheerful goodbye and doesn't sigh until he's ended the call. The phone slips from his fingers.

Jaehyun pokes his head out from the kitchen. "Yong, what's wrong? Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"I was born ready," Taeyong says tiredly, running a hand down his face. The graduation is in a couple of hours and Taeyong needs to pull himself together if he wants to get there in time. A lot of people are attending today, Taeyong one of many, but the entire process feels taxing. "Johnny just called."

"Johnny?" Jaehyun's eyebrows raise. He leans on the doorway, towel in his hands. It's his turn to wash the dishes. "If it was Johnny then why do you look so sad?"

Taeyong makes a face. "He's not coming."

"What?"

"He can't make it." Taeyong pushes himself up off the couch, grabbing his phone again and shoving it into his pocket. "His flight's been delayed."

Taeyong hasn't seen Johnny since February. They'd talked about Taeyong taking a long weekend to go to Chicago, but honestly Johnny is too busy with his promotion and Taeyong couldn't siphon the time away from his classes. Johnny had come to visit for a few days during spring break, and Taeyong had met his parents over Christmas, but there's too much space between.

Long distance has been difficult, but they've made it work. It's easy, when Taeyong reminds himself that not having Johnny would be so much harder.

"He'll be here tomorrow," Taeyong says, "just not for graduation."

Jaehyun smiles softly. "That boy."

"Who needs him?" Taeyong scoffs, but Taeyong does. He won't say he's not disappointed.

This isn't the biggest day of his life, but it is the end of a chapter, isn't it? Shouldn't he want his boyfriend to be there?

Honestly, everything that Johnny is doing lately has been so impressive. He works with a recording studio, doing the same sort of thing Joohyun did for him during _Night Night_ , and it's not a ton of money but it's enough for him. He recently presented his idea for his own show, and Taeyong has a good feeling that it's going to be picked up. Johnny gives him a lot of good feelings.

Taeyong sighs again, the last one he'll allow himself, and looks at Jaehyun critically. "Speaking of boyfriends—"

"Sicheng will be there," Jaehyun confirms with a laugh. "You keep asking, but he already said he'd be coming to dinner tonight. I think he really wants to meet your mom."

"He's just been oddly quiet around the house recently," Taeyong mutters. "I feel like he doesn't want to go and won't tell me."

"He wants to go." Jaehyun pats Taeyong on the head. He smells like dish soap. "Lucas has just been driving him crazy."

"Do I need to talk to him?" Lucas was a last minute addition to the house, joining the lease uncomfortably close to the start of fall semester, but he's a good roommate in most ways. Or, rather, he's a good person, so he'll clean when they tell him to, but it's rarely his first inclination. He does take the trash out, which is better than Taeyong can say of Ten when they lived together.

"No, Sicheng is just being grumpy." Jaehyun laughs. "You know him."

"Well, he'd better come." Taeyong scrunches his nose and stretches his back. He needs to shower still, and his graduation robe is still hanging up in his closest. "What if it's the last time we see each other?"

Jaehyun smiles, soft and sweet. "It won't be."

Taeyong knows it won't be. These people are too special to him.

Sicheng still needs to come.

"Alright, alright." Taeyong smiles at Jaehyun, pinches his cheek. "Are you ready to graduate next year?"

"Literally, as soon as possible," Jaehyun says, laughing and snapping the towel in his hands at Taeyong. "Then I'll be old like you."

It's a sad thought, Taeyong thinks, as he changes into his dress pants, buttons up his shirt and knots his tie and tries to think of all the steps he's taken and all the steps he's going to take. It's scary. It's sad. His last year of college feels like it flew by and inched forward all at once. He supposes that how it is, when you're wishing for something to end and terrified of what's beginning.

Ten texts him, _hurry hurry_ , and Taeyong throws the gown over his shoulders and grabs his hat and tassels. He picks up his keys and the envelope sitting on the table and closes the door behind him.

"It's weird, right?" Ten asks later, as they file into the gymnasium. It's already sticky hot, even with the fans on and half the attendees still far away in the parking lot. "This is the end."

"I wish we could have lived together senior year," Taeyong mumbles, holding Ten close and careful not to knock his nose on Ten's hat. "Why'd you have to leave?"

Ten announced halfway through the summer that he had been accepted into an internship in China, and had spent the entire first semester of their senior year dancing with other people who loved it the way he did. Honestly, it was a wonderful opportunity, sorely needed — Ten returned in the spring with new life, a new person, so settled, and Taeyong might even be jealous of his friend's happiness if he had the room in his heart for it. As it is, he's just overflowing with pride, that Ten was able to do something so grand.

It ruined their living plans, but that's a small price to pay.

So Lucas became the last minute roommate and now Ten is living in the dorms again with a freshman named Yangyang who might be the death of them, but Taeyong thinks it's been a good year. A successful year, for all the bumps and mishaps.

It's amazing that nothing seems to swallow them whole anymore. Taeyong thinks maybe it's because they're standing on solid ground.

"Johnny just called," Taeyong tells Ten, once they find their seats. Lee and Leechaiyapornkul aren't too far apart, but there are a lot of Lees between them. Ten doesn't care, sitting in Taeyong's lap while the others curls around them. It's a nice atmosphere, too sweet to be bitter. Friends are chatting for what might be the last time, girls throw around compliments like candy, and a general excited thrum surges through everything. If only Taeyong could bring himself to be so at peace. "His flight got delayed. He's not going to make it."

Ten throws an arm over Taeyong's shoulder. "Seriously? That sucks. He's probably so pissed right now."

"Yeah." Taeyong leans his head on Ten's shoulder. He's missed this closeness. He cuddles with Jaehyun sometimes, and Lucas is more puppy than human, but no one fits like Ten does. "It's been so long. I miss him."

A hand in his hair and Ten's smile against Taeyong's temple. "Soon."

Soon. It's as good as a promise.

Taeyong's phone rings, barely heard over the din of the auditorium, and the only reason that Taeyong answers is that Ten feels the buzz in his pocket. "Hello?" Taeyong says, without checking the ID. He hopes that it's Johnny, even when he knows it won't be, but there are other people he loves, and it's one of them.

"I'm lost," Mark says, Donghyuck chittering directions in the white noise behind him. "Where am I supposed to be parking?"

"In B lot." Taeyong laughs to Ten, a private joke. Mark was mostly able to navigate a year in California by himself, and yes, he returned home more of an adult than when he left. But some things never change. "Didn't you get the map I sent you?"

"Hyuck has it pulled up on his phone but I think he's giving me wrong directions on purpose."

There's a laugh in the background, neither a confirmation nor a denial.

Mark and Donghyuck are a good example of what it means to be happy. Mark left town and they'd agreed to put a hold on their relationship, but that agreement had only lasted a semester before they realized nothing was going to change for them. It's what Taeyong knew would happen, hoped would happen, and he likes to think that he and Johnny making it work was good motivation for the younger boys to pull it together.

There is no prize for them staying together, other than their happiness. There are endless ways for them to be happy. But it's a sweet story, and a strong one, and Taeyong is finding that you need to hold on to that when you find it.

Regardless, Donghyuck is sticking around for a long time, boyfriend or friend or nothing or something in between. He's family now. Taeyong hopes Donghyuck knows that.

"Where's your mom?" Taeyong asks, after giving Mark very specific instructions to the parking lot.

Mark curses a bit under his breath. Taeyong thinks that his cousin's road rage is the funniest thing about him, but he can imagine the traffic around campus right now is atrocious. "Ma and Auntie went out for breakfast this morning, so they drove together. I had to pick up Hyuck from practice."

"It's really nice of him to come." Taeyong had been pleasantly surprised when Mark told him his boyfriend was coming.

"He wants to." There's mumbling, and Mark laughs. "He's telling me you guys are still engaged because I still can't cook."

"You'll learn eventually," Taeyong says warmly. Mark will likely never learn, but that's alright.

Donghyuck is graduating in a few weeks, and Taeyong is bending over backwards to make it. There are some conflicts with other plans he has, but family is more important than schedules, so he knows he'll be there.

Honestly, sometimes Taeyong has to sit back and realize how long his list of important people has become. He's always held his social circle close to his chest, but everyday it feels like it gets a little wider, a little deeper. He knows that Sicheng and Jaehyun and Lucas are going to be in the audience. He knows that his mother and aunt are going to be there with flowers and that Mark and Donghyuck are smuggling in airhorns so that they can be a general public disturbance. He knows that Johnny would be there if he could.

That's so important to him.

And still, there are people that have sent him good spirits. Sehun, who is currently living in New York with his older and very wealthy boyfriend, called him today to congratulate him. Kun wrote on his Facebook page — a surprise, but not a bad one — and wished he could be there. He'd graduated in December with honors, and Taeyong doesn't begrudge him not wanting to return to campus when he's knee deep in his own job.

_Congratulate Ten for me,_ Kun wrote at the bottom, like an afterthought, as though he was closer to Taeyong than to Ten. As though that one sentence wasn't the purpose of the entire message.

Maybe it wasn't. Kun is a good spirit, and kind, and Taeyong would even consider him a friend, given time.

Another friend, added tentatively to a growing list

"Do you ever think about how far you've come?" Taeyong asks Ten, staring at the ceiling fans.

Ten grins. "Everyday." Flicks Taeyong's cheek. "Isn't that part of growing up?"

The staff enters the auditorium and the students take their seats, adhering to campus policy one last time before they're free forever. Taeyong is sweaty where Ten had been pressed against him, but he finds himself smiling anyway. "You did it," says the woman into the microphone. "You all did it. Congratulations. Today, you open so many doors."

Taeyong feels that. He feels that deep in his chest, in the simplest of ways.

The entire class stands up, not quite together, mistimed and messy and manic, and they head out the door together.

It's too hot in the arena, too many families, too many bodies, and the lights on the stage burn a little too bright. The girl beside Taeyong fans her face, blotting at her makeup, and they all shuffle in as a procession. Taeyong looks around in wonder at all the people, trying to find faces he recognizes. He grins, even when he can't see them, because he knows his mother is taking too many pictures and Donghyuck is waiting for him to look stupid so he can immortalize it on Instagram.

Taeyong is ready to leave, but this is a decent way to say goodbye.

It's a large class, and the speeches run long, and the names run longer. Taeyong is the third Lee to get up from his seat, and he shakes the hand of the president and smiles, beams, and is content with the years he's spent here, even if some were hard and ugly.

The announcer trips over Ten's last name and Taeyong laughs on stage, free.

Yes, he thinks, a good way to say goodbye.

As soon as the event is over, Taeyong pulls his phone from out of his pocket. _Meet us at exit 21!_ his mother had sent, less than thirty seconds ago, and Taeyong looks at the numbers and decides to brace himself for a walk.

"You're coming to dinner, right?" he asks Ten. "Your parents are invited, too."

"They have to fly back home tonight, but I'll come by after I send them off." Ten is glowing, eyes wide and brilliant, full of excited energy. "I'll see you, okay?" He leans over and kisses Taeyong's cheek. "Say hello to everyone for me, okay?"

Taeyong watches him run off into the crowd, fond and thankful.

It's more difficult to find his family than expected. The biggest issue is not that he's lost because he isn't, but rather that a million people he's only had one conversation with ever want to stop him and say goodbye. He recognizes a few people from his classes, a few more from parties he regrets going to, and a few more who sent him longing looks for the past four years. He swallows his tongue and says goodbye to them all with a smile. It's an overwhelming feeling, that so many people know him, are fringe-aware that Taeyong exists as a human, and are interested in shaking his hand on the way out, but he accepts it. Anxiety climbs a bit in his chest as the crowd moves and shifts and yet another face comes in, but he keeps moving forward, knowing that he'll be in the open air soon enough.

"Taeyong."

Taeyong turns, smile still plastered on his face. Pause. "Mina?"

He hasn't seen her in ages, hasn't heard from her or seen her on campus nearly at all. Her hair is cut short now, her make up a little more natural than it used to be, and her face looks a bit thinner. Older.

She's nervous.

His smile melts into something more genuine. "Mina, how are you?"

Relief. "I'm good." She steps forward. Her gown is unzipped, and the pretty floral of her dress moves in the wind from the fans working overtime. It's difficult to hear her over the roar, truthfully, but she can make herself heard, when she wants to. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"This year has been crazy," Taeyong agrees, as though that's the reason they've been dodging each other in the halls.

Taeyong wouldn't say it's intentional. Seeing her again cements that his feelings are sad rather than angry, her friendship a loss, even if it wasn't always fair.

"I'm sorry," Mina says, looking at Taeyong, straight into him, with purpose, and Taeyong wonders how long she's been waiting to say these words. How long she's needed to say this to him. "For last year. For Ilhoon. For everything."

"Don't apologize for Ilhoon," Taeyong tells her. "It was never your fault."

Her jaw sets. "That night, it was." She shakes her head. "I keep thinking about it...I don't know. I wanted him to be okay and I sacrificed you for it. I don't think I'll ever forgive myself."

It raises something complicated in Taeyong, maybe bitterness, but she's genuine, and that matters.

"You were always closer to him," he tells her honestly. "At the time, you thought he needed your support over everything."

"He was suffering," she agrees. "But so were you. I was cruel, I think, not to see that."

Ilhoon took a gap year. Taeyong hasn't seen him since dead week, over a year ago. A world from now.

"Have you talked to him recently?" he asks.

Mina smiles, tightly. "No."

It's another step.

Taeyong doesn't invite her to dinner with them. He doesn't think they'll ever be friends again, but he's satisfied to see her chatting amiably with a few girls from their year, and he sets off to find his own family, heart a little heavy.

It's a beautiful day outside, still hot but not as thick as the air was in the auditorium, and everything titters under a sunny, cloudless sky. He's at exit 2, looking around to see anyone he knows. Lucas is taller than most people, so keeps his eyes out from someone who hovers.

He finds something else.

Roses.

Taeyong's heart skips a beat. "Johnny?"

He's too far away. The person can’t hear him, back turned towards the door, but Taeyong sees the broad shoulders and the long legs and the roses, so many roses, and Mark chatting away. His mother's bright smile. It has to be him.

Taeyong runs.

And the person turns, and it's him.

"Oh my God," Taeyong says, nearly wails, and Johnny barely has time to push the bouquet into Mark's hands before Taeyong leaps into his arms. "You _bastard_."

"Really?" Johnny asks. Sicheng laughs, but Taeyong doesn't pay him any attention. "We haven't seen each other in months and that's the first thing you say to me?"

"You _lied_ ," Taeyong accuses. "Flight got delayed, my ass." He's breathing too hard. After all the anxiety, the heavy heart, the wonderful goodbye, he has this. His eyes are blurry. Johnny is beautiful, even after so long, maybe more so than the last time they saw each other. "I thought you weren't going to make it."

"I got you," Johnny says, laughing. "Sicheng picked me up from the airport so we could surprise you."

"It's a stupid surprise," Taeyong says, but it's too weak to be sharp. Johnny feels solid around him, after so long of being a ghost or a thought or a memory. His heart is aching, soaring, grounded, a million pieces making up a beating whole. "I didn't want you to be sad but I was _so upset_ , I—"

"I made it." A statement rather than a promise.

Taeyong buries his face in Johnny's chest. "I...hate you."

A statement and a lie.

Taeyong is flying.

"Oh my God, are you crying?" Mark asks, laughing more than warranted. "Dude." The bouquet in his hands is beautiful, just for Taeyong, and Taeyong snatches it back before Mark can tease him any more.

"No." Taeyong is definitely crying, slow tears, happy tears, more breath than anything. "I'm just...fuck." He laughs. Ridiculous. "I didn't realize I missed him this much."

Johnny kisses the top of Taeyong's head, gentle, simple, sweet.

"I'm here," he says. "I missed you."

"I can't believe you lied to me." Taeyong pretends to kick him, but he could never. He's overwhelmed. So much is happening. His heart is doing so many things. He takes the moment, breathes. Johnny is Johnny, smells and feels and loves like Johnny.

His mother snaps pictures, his aunt asks Mark why he and Donghyuck aren't as cute when they reunite, playful. The sun shines. Things change.

"I'm mad at you," Taeyong pouts, sniffling. He pets the roses, smoothing out the paper. "I love you. Fuck. How dare you?” Delicately, he touches his face, wipes his cheeks. Ruined. “All my pictures are going to look gross."

"Oh, shut up." Johnny laughs, lifts Taeyong's face up to the sky, holding him in the palm of his hands. "You're beautiful. Just a little puffy."

Taeyong laughs, free.

"I love you," Johnny tells him, soft, so only Taeyong can hear. "Of course I'd be here."

"I..." Taeyong knows that things change, but this part of his heart is anchored down, deep in his bones. "I have something for you." He can't believe he brought it with him. His bad habits, keeping it on his person always, paid off. "A present. Or, a thank you, maybe. I don't know."

Johnny smiles at him, bemused. "You don't have to thank me," he says, "not for anything."

"If you think that, you're still a damn fool." Firm. Taeyong has so much to thank Johnny for. Even if they never fell in love, even if they never spoke beyond that first time, Taeyong will spend his entire life thanking the universe for Johnny.

He pulls the envelope out of his pocket.

Trades paper for flowers, but there's power in them both.

Johnny raises his eyebrows as he opens it. To the side, Taeyong's mom is crying, because she knows what it is, what it means, and mourns. Happy tears. "A plane ticket?" Johnny says aloud. He pulls it out, reads the information. There's red high on his cheeks, something hopeful, and Taeyong smiles. "To Chicago? Are you sending me away already?"

"It's not your name on the ticket, is it?" Taeyong asks, clutching flowers, flowers blooming.

Johnny turns the paper around, hoping. "One way?"

Taeyong could reach out a hand, press it against Johnny's chest, feel the shuttered beating, rapid-fire. Hoping. "One way." He's hesitant, dreaming. Still crying, if only a little. Shaken. "I got a job."

Human.

And oh, Johnny laughs. Johnny laughs deep in his chest, full of joy, bright like the beautiful day. "I..." He pauses, catching his breath, still laughing, and Taeyong laughs with him, wiping his tears. "I have something for you. Fuck. We're soulmates." Johnny, too, is on the brink of a breakdown, something glorious, and he digs around in his pockets, eyes too bright. "I was going to like, talk to you about it. But."

A key.

It dangles from Johnny's fingers, clean bronze.

"It's an extra," Johnny says. "Or...an offer, I guess."

It matches the key on Johnny's wallet, the one to his Chicago apartment, miles and miles and miles away, a lifetime ahead, another door to open.

Taeyong takes it. "We really are soulmates." He laughs. Pulls Johnny down by the neck and kisses him in front of his mother and God and everyone, in front of everything he's ever known.

Johnny has ruined all the pictures of Taeyong's graduation, because Taeyong is red and crying and puffy, but the picture the Donghyuck takes of the two of them, laughing and crying in each others arms, is the first one that Taeyong puts up on their wall.

"Goodbye, Yongie," his mother says later, after dinner. "I know you'll never really leave, but I feel like it's worth saying."

"I'll never leave," Taeyong agrees.

There are so many people here that Taeyong loves, in all the different ways that he loves them, and somethings are still scary but there's hope for the future in this.

A beautiful, blessed kind of peace.

"Where do you want to go?" Johnny asks, opening the door of his car as Taeyong clambers in. It's too early to go home, to sleep, to leave each other, even for a moment.

"Anywhere," Taeyong decides. He turns on the radio. The sun has set and the day is over and something else is just beginning. "I'm ready."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's done. I'm an empty nester. I can now look at this enormous, self-indulgent mess and say goodbye. Truly? I'm devastated.  
> I've written a lot, and have struggled a lot with the concept of putting so much of myself into my writing. It's a lot easier to get hurt that way, and the process is brutal. This fic was originally going to be something a lot different, and ended up being so close to home. Maybe that's what I needed.  
> Honestly, a huge thank you to everyone who read this far, opened this fic, saw something they enjoyed, commented, anything. I am incredibly grateful. I don't get attached to fic, but I'm attached to this one, and a big part of that is you guys. Everyone saying they related to Taeyong related to me, in the depth of my self-discovery. That time is passed, but I still felt alone, and I don't anymore.   
> Please know that there is a flesh and blood human that experiences life the same way you do.
> 
> To everyone who has never had this kind of experience but felt for Taeyong anyway, thank you.
> 
> Ilhoon is all the men who thought they could take something that wasn't theirs.  
> Ten is the friend I try to be and wish to have.  
> Johnny is all the hope I have left, every last ounce.
> 
> Writing this has been a delight. I'm sad that it's over.
> 
> And to doors, wide open — thank you for everything.  
> \- Rome

**Author's Note:**

> _(:3」∠)_ [twt](https://twitter.com/fuIImarks)


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